


Mirrors

by ohioinmymind



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content, badboy!Liam, cheeky!Harry, rich!Lilo, skater!Zayn, tattooed!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 89,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohioinmymind/pseuds/ohioinmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis are a couple of rich kids, with no care in the world. Zayn doesn't care about anything but skating and Liam. Harry wants Louis to see him for what he really is; a good guy. And Niall just wishes they would all get their shit together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aren't You Something

**Author's Note:**

> It starts out as Louis' POV, but I promise it's a Ziam story, with side Larry, not the other way around. 
> 
> WARNING: There are mentions of Louis/Liam sex, but it's brief. It's literally a sentence, and it never, ever happens again, ever. Don't let that turn you off of this. I promise it really is fairly decent. 
> 
> This came to me in the middle of the night. I hope some of you like it. It's inspired by all the punk!direction edits. Cause tattooed Niall, Harry and Zayn are really hot. Also, Lilo is my favorite BROTP of the band, so them hanging out so much lately helped spawn this. 
> 
> I figure it'll be 5 chapters? maybe 20K words or less. We'll see.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it! Leave a comment, and tell me what you think, even if you hate it, eek! Also, no Beta, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, because if I did I definitely wouldn't be sharing them with anyone else, duh.

Louis does not love Liam. He doesn't.

Well, okay he _loves_ Liam, but he isn't _in love_ with Liam. 

Ew, that's like, incest.

But he can't say much because that's what he's been doing for the latter 4 years of his life; pretending to be in love with Liam.

Liam's hot, obviously' because Louis would certainly never date an ugly person. Not that he's shallow or anything, but Louis' friends are all beautiful, Liam included, and the oppritunity has never risen.

Okay, maybe he is shallow. 

_Whatever._

With who Louis is, who his parents are, he can afford to be shallow. 

Liam, however, is not shallow. Liam dates whoever he wants, and he has a certain attraction to bad boys. Liam doesn't care if they're bottom of the barrel or at the top of society; if they treat him like dirt and let him fuck them into the matress, he's fine. 

Like Liam's father, Louis doesn't see the appeal. He'll often steer clear of Liam's boytoy of the month and hold his hand in public so Liam's dad doesn't take his car keys away. His dad isn't strict, just picky. He thinks Liam has a reputation to uphold, and he doesn't want him ruining it. Translation: he has a reputation and he doesn't want Liam ruining it. No, he doesn't care if he's gay, but he has to be shoing his dick up the ass of someone who has class. 

Louis will never understand that.

He remembers when they were both fourteen and reckless, sneaking wine coolers from Louis' mum's bar and sipping them by the pool before inviting all their classmates over. Liam had been attatched at the mouth with some tattooed guy who was the ripe old age of seventeen. Louis was swimming in the pool with Nick and El, but he'd noticed Liam, just didn't pay him any attention. 

Someone had yelled that Louis' parents were home, but he knew that wasn't true, they were out of the country for a few more days at least, so he stayed in the corner of the pool, bottle in one hand and Nick's dick in the other. He was _excellent_ at multi-tasking.

He heard more than saw Liam's dad drag him out of the pool by his armpits. The other guy, Andy, Louis thinks, tucked tail and scurried off before Geoff could catch him and everyone else dispersed; leaving Louis and Liam alone with a very pissed off Mr. Payne.

After that, Geoff had told Liam if he ever embarrassed him again, he'd be shipped off to public school for his troubles. And Louis' dad had agreed, telling him that Nick Grimshaw's parents were in debt, and what would people think if he was romantically involved with someone like that.

 _Public school._ Even the mention of such a horrible place made Louis and Liam shudder, their hearts stopping in their tracks; so they vowed to be on their best behavior.

And that's how they ended up dating. 

Louis suggested it one night when they were smoking up in Liam's bedroom, the both of them high off their asses, giggling and having the time of their lives. Liam laughed at the idea, but the next morning he told Louis it wasn't such a bad idea, so they ran with it.

They sucked it up and kissed in front of their parents a week later; it was nice. Liam was a good kisser, he'd had enough expreience. And the way he held Louis face when he drew him in made Louis feel loved and appreciated, even if it wasn't real in the slightest. It worked.

They went with their fathers to press events, fingers interlocked and suits matching. They kept the charade up at school, only breaking away in dark and unseen corners when Louis found a boy to corrupt or when Liam found one to corrupt him. They hosted parties, hanging all over one another, not too far from what they used to be like, just with a few more kisses and a lot of extra touching. 

Louis' dad was happy he was with someone that had enough money to uphold the family name, and Liam's dad was happy he wasn't galavanting around town sleeping with every bad and broody boy he could find.

It worked. 

Until Louis' dad found coke in his room. 

Louis woke up to screaming, barely remembering the night before. Liam was in his bed; naked. It wasn't unusual, they'd hook up occasionally if they couldn't find a conquest. They'd been _'dating'_ for long enough for it not to be weird after. And Liam was _phenomenal_ in the sack.

He'd invited Grimmy, Dani and El over the night before. Grimmy had brought him some seriously fucking awesome weed and he and Liam smoked them all out just before Dani pulled out a vessel of white powder and sobered Louis right up. He refused and Liam told her to get rid of that shit before their parents walked in.

She shrugged and set it in her purse while Liam rolled up another joint. 

The thing about weed, was it made Louis incredibly horny, and he was all over Liam in an instant. Sucking on his neck, biting his shoulder in the place he _knew_ it'd make him groan out his name. 

So they left them to their own devices and Louis didn't hear from them until Grimmy called him later in the night and said Dani left her purse there and that he and Liam should hide the coke, just in case Louis' mom and dad decided to get nosey and rummage through their things. Liam had just shoved it in Louis' night stand, so they'd be able to hear them if they came looking for something out of place; not that they _should,_ but to be on the safe side.

Of course, Louis woke up to a very angry and red in the face Mr. Payne and a disappointed looking mum and dad. Liam was still unclothed, as was Louis, but he'd drawn the covers over their waists as soon as they realized they had company.

"Weed? Weed, I get, Lou. But _coke?_ What the hell is wrong with you?" His mother was yelling at him, screaming. And Louis made the mistake of rolling his eyes before speaking, making her even more frustrated. 

"It's not ours, mum. I'm not into that shit, and neither is Li." She cut him off and continued ranting, shouting about how dumb it was and Geoff butt in with how he expected this from _Liam,_ but not Louis, and _yada yada yada, bulshit bullshit bullshit._

"Can I speak for a goddamn minute? _Shit._ " He leaned over to peck at Liam's cheek, not in an intimate way, but in a reassuring one. He could see the lines of panic beginning to form in Liam's face, and he seriously needed to calm down; Louis would take care of this. 

"Watch your mouth in this house, _boy,_ " his father snarled. 

He climbed out of bed, unphased by the amount of eyes on his naked ass; they were all grown ups here. Some more than others, apparently. He found Liam's jeans at the end of the bed and slid them over his hips, tossing Liam's boxers over his shoulder. 

"If you'd let me explain, I wouldn't have to cuss to get your attention, _dad._ "

Liam's dad scoffed, placing his hands on his hips, looking at him expectantly. 

"Please explain. I would love to hear what you two can come up with to cover this up." He waved his hands. "Go on, I need a good laugh."

"Dad, it's not ours; honest. One of Grimmy's stupid friends brought it over and we told her to put it away."

"Then how did it get in Louis' drawer?"

"We put—"

"The more important question," Louis interrupted, "is why the _fuck_ were you going through my shit in the first place?"

His mother dased across the room and swiped her hand across his face. Louis would have moved out of the way, if it wasn't so unexpected. His mother never hit him, never. 

"One: this is our house, and if we want to look through your things, we damn well will. Two: your sister came in here, looking for some CD she claimed you stole from her and she found this." _Fuck._ "She's ten, Louis. _Ten!_ You're lucky I don't have you arrested! What if she'd gotten into this? _What if—_ " 

She was yelling so hard, she started shaking, so Louis took her in his arms and let her cry. He really did fuck up by letting Grimmy and Dani keep that in here. He should have flushed it down the toilet the second he saw it. He rubbed her back, stroking his hands up and down and attempting to soothe her. 

If his sister had thought it was candy or sugar or some other stupid thing kids these days ate, she could have been honest to God messed up. And he'd never be able to live with himself, knowing he let his friends bring that in here.

"It really wasn't ours, Mrs. Tommo. We'll make sure they don't bring things like that here again." Louis watched Liam swallow heavily and rub at the back of his neck. "We're sorry."

Geoff took a step towards him, pointing his finger in Liam's face. "Sorry isn't cutting it for you this time, Liam. I've had it with you!" 

He yelled at Liam, like Liam had done anything else wrong in the last, what, four years? Geoff had never caught Liam doing anything. Had he done things, and people that his dad wouldn't appove of? _Definitely._ Had Geoff witnessed or been told about it? No.

"What the hell are you talking about? Liam does one thing wrong and you're done? It was one thing, _one_ time. We've been perfect all the time before that," he winked over at Liam. "Right, babe?"

Liam shook his head, telling Louis now was not the time to pick a fight with his dad, but Louis ignored him. They weren't small children, they were seventeen; almost eighteen. He refused to be talked down to, or let Liam be walked all over by his pretentious fuck of a father. 

"Well once was enough," his dad spoke. "We told you guys what would happen."

Louis let go of his mother, his face paling and his arms dropping to his sides immediately.

_No, no. Please, no._

"Please, _please_ tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying. _Please._ "

Louis' dad nodded. 

"We are."

Liam and Louis both began to protest. At one point Louis even remembers getting on his knees and groveling at the feet of his father. He wasn't ashamed, he'd gotten on his knees for less. This was life or death. Louis could not deal with what he knew was coming. No way.

"Mum, don't let him do this to us."

"Dad, it wasn't even ours."

"Mum, _pleaaase._ "

"Lou, stop being so dramatic. This is the most lenient punishment we could think of."

"Your mother's right, you're lucky we don't have you and your friends arrested."

"I'll call the cops myself, dad! _Don't make me go!_ "

"Dad, this isn't fair!"

"The world isn't fair, Liam."

" _Mum!_ "

"You're practically a grown man, Louis, get off the floor."

"Anything but this!"

All three adults before them shook their heads in unison, already having made up their minds. 

Liam's dad looked a little too happy and Louis would give anything to use his black belt in Karate to kick that smirk off his face.

His own dad sighed and helped Louis off the floor.

"It's been decided," he said, breaking Louis' heart and making him want rush to the bathroom to puke out food he didn't even have in his stomach. 

"You're going to public school."

Louis grimaced. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

 

**/////**

"Liam, get up." 

Liam rolled over and snuggled his face farther into his -- he sniffed -- no, _Louis'_  pillow. 

"Liam, if you make me late on my first day, I swear to god." He used both his arms to shove Liam over, trying to get him fully out of bed, but he wasn't quite strong enough. "Liam, get _up._ "

Liam sat up, annoyed. "You don't even want to go to this school." He pushed the duvet off of his body and stood up to stretch out his muscles, only shivering slightly at the cold. "I don't even want to go. Why do you care if we're late or not? And on a Friday? Who starts school on a Friday?" 

"I arranged it like that so we could have a break if we needed it, Liam. Get your ass in the shower."

"Fine," he huffed. "But I still don't want to go."

Liam watched Louis roll his eyes in the relection of the mirror he kept by his bed.

"And you think I _do?_ Also, you know you're a little bit excited. Think of all the hot but horrendously poor bad boys you'll meet." He laughed sinisterly. "Geoff will _love_ it." 

Liam went to the bathroom. Louis followed him and began brushing his teeth, letting Liam slip into the shower. "I'm staying on his good side. No boys, no parties. Okay, none of _our_ parties. No Grimmy and crew," he spoke over the water. "He said we could go back at the end of the year if we showed improvement." He heard Louis scoff, albeit mutedly becasue his mouth was probably full of toothpaste. "I'm serious Lou, we can't fuck this up."

"It's not me you have to worry about, Paynie. I'm not the one with the reputation for fucking poor kids."

Liam sighed, scrubbing at his back and neck with Louis' ridiculously girly loofah. Who named this shit, anyway? A _loofah._

"I don't fuck poor kids, you cunt. I like bad boys, regardless if they have money or not." He squirted some shampoo in his hand and mixed it with conditioner to save time. "I'm not a _gold digger._ "

"You say that like _I'm_ a gold digger."

"Are you denying it?"

"Well, no. But it's still rude, Liam."

He let the product rinse from his hair and spun the dials to turn the shower off. 

"Shut up and hand me a towel."

"Ooh, _bossy,_ " Louis smirked, snapping the towel at Liam's legs and then throwing it at his face. "Your clothes are on your bed. I saved you the trouble of picking them out. They match mine, so throw them on and let's go." He applied toothpaste to Liam's toothbrush and stuck it in his open mouth. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave."

Liam moved the brush around in his mouth before spitting and rinsing his brush and his mouth. He used Louis' blow drier to fluff his hair in the small quiff that Louis said made him look _hot._ Lou's words, not his. He examined his stubble and chose to ignore it, it made him look older. Plus, he was lazy.

"Liam, hurry up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Geez. _Bossy._ " 

 

/////

They didn't have any classes together. Louis didn't think that was by chance, he was sure Liam's dad, or his, had orcastrated things like that so they could both be as miserable as possible. They were only twenty minutes late and the principal's assistant was easily bribed into a smile with a tin of cookies Lou's house keeper had whipped up and sent them off with.

Her cheeks flushed pink at the gift and she quickly handed them thier scedules and maps, telling them the first class was already half way over and they should focus on finding their second class and go from there.

Liam's classes were pretty simle, sans Advanced English Lit, which Louis raised a brow at when he examined Liam's schedule. Normally the both of them would have been involved in sports; Louis in football and Liam in track and field. But when they won in an event, and they would, they'd be in the papers or photographed and they didn't need the public recognition. 

Every one at their old school knew where they were going, and Liam and Louis were social enough to know some kids that would be walking the halls here, from parties with less exclusive guest lists and such. Their fathers gave them specific instructions to not draw any press attention to themselves, so that's what they would do. They would both keep their heads down and wait for their punishment to be lifted and go back to Prep School where they belonged.

It was a decent school. There weren't designated parking spots, and the outside tables looked a little worse for wear; Liam couldn't even begin to discuss Louis' disgust at the trashcans near the eating areas, buzzing with flies and smelling foul, but it was okay. They would just eat inside. 

The only thing Liam did like was the free dress code. He knew he looked good in slacks and a button down, maybe a sweater tied over his shoulders; but here he felt a little more free. The education was shit, and the food was awful, but he could hold Louis' hand down the hallway and not get in trouble and he could wear jeans and not get bitched at. Liam liked it just fine. 

He and Louis took his car out for lunch and they'd wandered through classes all day, mumbling _'hello's'_ and texting one another when the teacher wasn't looking. 

_someone is wearing off brand converse, li. you know how i feel about that._

A couple minutes later:

_i'm about to pull them off her feet and throw them in the bin. i am not kidding. this is not a drill._

Liam chuckled. He was proud of Louis; he'd gone all day without bitching about the actual people at the school; until now anyways. It was the last class of the day and they'd be home free.

"What's so funny?"

Liam's head snapped up. At first, he thought the teacher might have snuck up in him. But she was still at her desk, still pressing her chalk down on the chalk board with annoyingly loud strokes and talking as loud as Liam thought her vocal chords would allow.

Chalkboards. They still had chalkboards.

He looked over to where the voice had came from and had to kind of twist his body to see. 

The first thing he spotted were the tattoos.

It was a boy. He looked to be Liam's age. He had a quiff, like Liam's, but larger; taller. Liam raised his brows appreciatively when he noticed the tattoos peeking out of his shirt sleeves. A white tee and sleeveless denim button up swallowed him, looking much too large, but good. He looked good. Liam watched his legs move back and forth on a skateboard under his desk. If Liam squinted his eyes, which he would not do, because he was forward, but not rude, he could see what looked like eyeliner, but might have been the guy's incredibly long lashes. 

He really didn't want to talk about his lips. 

Lips he could see wrapped around hi di--

"Dude, quit," the guy laughed quietly. "You're gonna give me a complex. I know I'm hot, but..." he trailed off. "I asked you a question."

He wasn't cruel, just blunt. And fuck, he was exactly Liam's type. He was so Liam's type. 

Liam shook his head. No, he promised he would be good and stick out this public school thing to the best of his abilities. That did not involve bending over the first guy he paid any attention to, and screwing him senseless. Liam didn't care how hot he was, or how many of his own clothes he got to wear; he was getting out of here as soon as possible.

"I uh, I was texting my friend." 

He nodded and whispered at Liam again. "You're new right? There were supposed to be two newbs today. Is that you and your mate?"

"Guilty," he paused. "News travels fast here, I guess."

Zayn laughed, attracting the attention of their teacher. She shushed them and turned back around to finish writing pages down on the board. 

"Well, when you pull up in a Lambo, you're kind of hard not to notice."

"That's like, the least fancy car we have."

"If a Lambo is your scraps, I'd love to see what you drive around in all the time."

"I'm sure I could give you a ride."

Hell, that was not supposed to come out. 

Zayn winked at him. Liam thanked God or whoever was listening, that he was sitting down, becasue he had a strong feeling that his knees would have given at the flutter of this guy's insanely long and dark eyelashes.

"I'll have to take you up on that."

Liam couldn't stop himself. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"What do you want me to be doing?"

"Me."

Zayn's cheeks heated up a delicious shade of dark pink and Liam thought, fuck it. He's hot and I won't be here for long anyway. His dad will most likely never come down here, too afraid of being stricken with poverty or something, so why should he worry? In and out. Louis would give him shit for going back on his word, but he'd been looking for a new adventure; and whoever this guy was, he was it.

"You just get right to it, hm? What if I told you I was taken?"

Liam tapped his chin and smiled. "I'd tell you I don't usually mind healthy competition."

"Oh, you're good. Smooth talker, four for you."

"Mean Girl's reference," he asked, trying to hide his grin in his hand.

"You can't laugh if you know where it came from."

Liam nodded and shrugged. "Touche."

The bell rang and Liam had to stop himself from shooting out of his seat. It was a natural reaction of the day, but maybe he'd wait and talk to this guy who had him so intriuged. He idled by the teacher's desk and smiled cheekily when she gave him a sharp glare and told him to keep his personal conversations outside the classroom. 

Liam decided to wait ouside the door for him, and wasn't disappointed when he got a nice view of his ass when he walked out the door. 

"I'm Liam, by the way," he said, sticking his hand out in his direction.

"Zayn," he said. He let his board fall to the floor and ke expertly maneuvered it with his feet.

"Hey,--"

Zayn looked up at him; Liam was taller, only by an inch or so. "Look, kid. It was fun in there, but straight and narrow isn't my type. Not really."

Liam let the weight of the words take him a step back. This was a change. He knew this g-- Zayn -- was feeling him in the classroom. He could see it in the blush on his cheeks and the glint of interest in his eye.

Liam wouls not be turned down by a kid from pulbic school. Never in a million years would Louis let him hear the end of it.

"Lucky for you, asshole is my type." He took out a slip of paper from his bag and dug around for a pen. He prayed Zayn would wait for him, but he didn't hear him skate away, so he figured he was good. He jotted down an address and his own phone number and handed it to Zayn. 

"Come. Bring your friends," he shrugged. "Or don't. Beer, booze, pot; the works."

Zayn looked over the paper and looked back at Liam, his eyes squinting in disbelief. "This is a dock address."

"I didn't mention the party's on a boat? Must have slipped my mind."

"I'm not spending my Saturday in a suit for a yacht party, kid."

Liam laughed, he liked this guy. Damn, he was sassy. But Liam grew up with Louis, and if there was anything he knew how to do, it was give it back as well as he took it. 

"Wear whatever clothes you want, babe. You won't be in 'em long anyway."

Zayn lazily grinned and flipped his board up into his hands.

"There you go with that smooth talking, again."

Liam smirked, but didn't say anything. He'd laid the ground work, he wasn't going to beg. He was sure there were plenty of other boys here willing to have fun with him; they might not be as beautiful or as witty as Zayn, but he's sure he'd find someone to do the trick.

"You said pot?"

Liam nodded his head, smiling because he knew he had Zayn, right then.

"Don't look so happy, mate. Is it good? I heard rich kids have terrible pot."

Liam tossed his knapsack of his shoulder when he saw Louis stalking towards him from down the hall.

"Bullshit, babe. Rich kids have the _best_ weed." He left Zayn standing there so he could meet Lou halfway. 

It'd do Zayn some good to do a little chasing after Liam.

"How do I know you're not lying," he called after Liam.

He turned and threw up his hands, lifting his shoulders and shrugging before winking and yelling down the hallway.

"You don't!"

 

**/////**

**  
**"You're such a little shit, Liam Payne."

Liam coughed on his jello shot. It wasn't too early in the afternoon to start a little drinking, he supposed. They had a party to throw together at the last minute for tomorrow night. Liam wrote 9PM on the peice of paper he'd given Zayn. That would get him there early enough for Liam to get with someone else before the night was over if need be; and he and Louis had to resort to each other again. 

Louis wasn't bad, but he wasn't really Liam's type. He was quirky, but not dangerous enough. He made Liam feel alive and free. And een though it was false advertisement, it felt good to know Louis would always be there as Liam's escape to his father's strict rules and sharp tongue. He could see himself actually dating Louis, sometimes even found himself believing it, but he didn't want him as anything other than a friend. Louis was a good friend. A good hook-up too, but a better friend. 

"How am I a shit, Lou?"

"You weren't there a _day_ before you found someone to play with," he pouted, sticking his lip out fat and pretty. "You're supposed to be dating _me,_ so no one will try to hit one me when they see my super hot boyfriend with his grown up facial hair and big muscles. You're not helping me at all."

"You're so full of it, Lou," he snickered. "You're mad because I made a friend before you." He poked Louis in the cheek and moved back when Louis swatted at him, his lip still stuck out as far as it would go, the big baby. "People like me better," he sang.

"I made a friend today," he mumbled. 

" _Aw,_ " Liam cooed. "Who was it?"

"His name's Niall," he announced, "even got his number for some dope. You'd like him, he's a _skater._ " 

"Invite him to the party."

"We're not having a party, Liam."

"We have to," he begged. "I told Zayn we were. I even gave him the old boat dock number; told him to be there at 9."

Louis took a chug directly from the bottle, swallowing it with the tip still in his mouth, not bothering to wipe it off his throat when it trickled out of the sides until he relaeased and capped it.

"I don't think Geoff'll go for that."

"He will if I tell him I'm trying to make new friends that aren't Grimmy and Dani."

"Is El still allowed to hang out with us?"

"I think so, why?"

Louis sighed before uncapping the bottle and repeating the same routine as before, throwing it back and drinking until it slipped out of the sides of his mouth. Liam scrunched his face in disgust. 

"'Cause I'm gonna need her contact book," he said, sighing after his large gulp. "Dad got rid of mine."

"Her contact book for what, you _animal_. Really, Lou? Who drinks like that anymore? Who drank like that _ever?_ "

Louis picked up a glass nearest him and tossed it at Liam, letting his head fall back in laughter when it shattered on the floor, scattering across the tiles in the bar room; the reckless shit. 

"You better be nice to me, you ass. I need her to call people for the party. If I'm throwing a fake party, it's going to be a _buzzin'_ fake party."

"That word died, like in sixth year."

"Liam, shut up. And pass me that whiskey will you? El is insuffereable."

"You dated her."

"Dating and having sex are not the same thing," he slurred, typing in El's number on his phone.

Thankfully he's had it memorized since that dreadful year Liam had mentioned. Louis had experimented dating girls when he was younger. Liam could have told him he was gay as the day is long, if he'd just asked. It would have saved both of them some trouble. El, or Eleanor, was a nice girl. She was pretty and smart and admittidly pretty funny. But Liam doesn't remember their relationship in a fond light, not becasue of anything she did, but because of his best friend's existential crisis over his sexuality. He shook his shoulers and shot back another drink; that was a tough year.

"Please, Lou. You wouldn't even know what to _do_ with a vagina."

Louis was either ignoring him, or he didn't hear him. Liam would bet on the first one. 

"Hello, El," he spoke into his phone reciever. "Yeah, so listen. No, I'm not calling to bitch you out."

There was a long pause, and Liam could hear her voice through the tinny speakers of Louis' phone. 

"I did not cuss out Dani, okay, _I did_. But coke is so lame, El. I know. I know. _I know._ "

Another pause. Liam opened up another bottle and poured himself a glass. 

"So listen, El. We're having a party. Me and Liam, of course. Who else would I be throwing a party with?"

Liam let his eyes roll at his best friend's dramatics.

"Who do I want you to invite?"

Liam wouldn't hold his breath on this one. Anyone he liked, Louis didn't. Plus, the party was originally for Zayn, and Liam planned on sticking that out. Zayn interested him, he made him curious. It didn't hurt that he was gorgeous.

He knew Louis' list would be exclusive, upperclassmen only and no one below the B-List families. Even that was slumming it for Lou.

"How about everyone?"

_Shit._

**/////**

_  
_"There are too many people here, Lou!"

Liam was tripping through the mass of people on the deck of the yacht, _his_ yacht. He couldn't even find a spot to stand stationary on his own yacht. 

Louis dragged him by the sleeve of his jacket, yanking him towards the make-shift bar they'd set up before letting everyone scurry in from the dock. He'd paid some kid down the street to run to the store and buy any bottle of liquor that sounded good to him. He wouldn't dare be caught photographed, even if he was old enough. His father let him have this party inder the impression that no one he and Louis used to run with would be attending. He also thought it would be a formal even, ties and boat shoes instead of bathing suits and flip flops and drunk girls and boys drinking and dancing the night away.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"You wanted a good fake party, Liam. This is a good fake party."

"I wanted a fake party, I never said it had to be good."

Louis grabbed a bottle from the top shelf of the bar, nestled behind a cup of toothpicks with dreadful neon colored umbrellas on the tips of them. 

"You don't want what's-his-face to think you're lame, Li." He tipped back his drink and wiped his mouth with his sleep. "This is the perfect solution, I won't even hold your hand. Don't want you _boyfriend_ to get jealous."

Liam scoffed and snatched Louis' precious liquor and took a drink himself. "It's not like everyone here doesn't know we're not dating. I can count on both hands the amount of people you've made it with on this deck alone, mate."

"That's rubbish."

Liam spanned his hand out and tapped the tips of his fingers. "Matty, El, that boy from Doncaster, Brandon, Edward, Taylor," he shook his shoulders in distaste, " _please_ never do that again." He rubbed his chin, mostly for show, but honestly trying to remember. "Donovan, Paul. And we can't forget Grimm—"

Louis slapped his hands down and Liam chuckled at his annoyance.

"I get it, you ass. See if I try to help you next time."

Liam elbowed him in the ribs. "You were dying to have this party as much as I was. You ran out of weed, like two days ago. You addict."

"You can't be addicted to weed, Liam."

"Yes you can, Louis."

Louis squinted his eyes in a glare at Liam, them peering over is shoulder to look at something behind Liam's back.. "Ask Grimmy, he'll know."

" _Leeyuuum!_ " He turned sharp and came face to face with the man in question. 

"Grimmy!" He wrapped Nick's taller frame in a hug. He felt loose and pliant under Liam's hands. His normal messy attempt at a quiff was even more disorderly tonight. He had a blazer thrown over his shoulers and some dark jeans that were soaked in the legs, suggesting he took a wade in the water some time earlier in the night. Liam smiled, typical Grimmy. "How are you, mate? Doing okay? Didn't think we'd see you here."

"I'm good," he slurred, reaching around Liam and gripping Louis in a hug, kissing him on the mouth. "And of course I'd come out for my two favorite boys!" He pulled a baggy of weed from his coat pocket and tossed it at Louis. "I'm sad I didn't hear directly from you though, babies. I had to take a stroll down to _Harlem Park_ to get an invite!"

"El was supposed to invite you," Louis exclaimed, patting Nick's momentarily sad cheek. "We'd never leave you out. And Harlem is in the States, love."

"Well it was just as bad, Lou. Not to worry, though. I got an invite when I went to that part of town, said someone from school told him to come. He's an onld friend, that Harold; cute as a button. He's not too bad," he giggled into his hand, "for someone that goes to _public school._ "

Liam groaned at the snub. He knew Grimmy wouldn't have brought up public school in the first place, if he wasn't taking a jab at him and Louis; the cheeky bastard. "How'd you hear about that?"

"Everyone's talkin' about it, Liam. You don't go to school there anymore and you're still all anyone's talkin' about. I'd be jealous if I didn't know I was prettier than you."

Louis cackled, sipping at the drink in his hand. "We'll go with that."

"I'm in the mood for a 'lil puff, Tommo, so I'm going to get Harry and I'll be back, hm?" He wiggled his fingers at the both of them before sauntering away, rather inpressively for someone of his level of intoxication."

Louis poked him in the chest. "You were only supposed to invite one person, Liam. _One._ _I_ had one, _you_ had one. If a load of bloody poor kids show up and try to ruin my party, I'm making you sleep on the couch."

Liam sighed heavily. He'd had it with Louis' _poor kid, rich kid_ rants lately. Who cares where they come from if they're just here to party? He didn't. Liam just wants to meet up with Zayn and see how far that goes before they have to sneak the boat back into his father's harbor in the morning, trying not to wake him up before his flight to London.

"Jesus, Lou. They're people too, shit." He moved to walk away, shrugging out of Louis' arms when he tried to stop him by clinging to him with his whole body. 

"Where are you going," he asked, no doubt pouting again; Liam could tell by the whine in his voice.

"To see if they've tapped the keg on the beach yet."

" _Li,_ don't leave me here by myself."

"Stop pouting. You invited all these people here to party; so party."

He snaked his way through the crowd and ran into Nick on his way to the beach. A curly haired kid was trailing after him, not looking nearly as amused by the hoards of drunk teenagers on Louis' mum's private beach. He was gangly and tall, and his hair was tucked into an orange beanie. He made a note to ask Grimmy who he was if things didn't work out with Zayn. He had a menage of tattoos and the joint dangling from his lips was enough to peak Liam's interst. It was a thought.

"Liam, why're you not on the boat? You not smoking with us?"

The guy at Nick's side spoke to him. "You're Liam?"

Did Liam already know him? Had he met him at school and just forgot? Surely he hadn't; he doubted he'd forget a face like that; full lips that fit themselves into a smirk and dark ink spotting his arms. No, Liam would definitely remember him.

"Do I know you?"

He shook his head, one of his curls untucking itself from his cotton hat. "No, not me. My mate Zayn's looking for you, though. He and Niall are on the beach." 

"Niall? Louis' theatre friend?"

He nodded once more, taking a drag of the blunt between his fingers. "Yeah, you know Louis? Niall's been looking everywhere for him."

Grimmy threw his arm over Harry's shouler and Harry didn't even flinch; like he was used to it, Liam guesses. It figures, Grimmy was a touchy-feely person. "That's who we're going to see right now! Bring 'em along! And Zaynie too, Liam _loves_ baaad boys, Harry."

Harry raised a brow, smiling at Liam. "Zayn's your guy, then. I'll ring 'em in the boat and tell him to come over."

"It's a _yacht,_ Harold."

"Same difference, Grimmy."

They walked back where Liam had just came from, waving him along, telling him to join them.

"Are you coming, Liam? We don't have all night, love. Lou's probably arlready started without me. Run along."

This is going to be a long night.

 

**/////**

Liam was sitting in the lower deck, waiting for Grimmy to light up the second joint of the night. As predicted, Louis had already rolled one and smoked part of it without them. Apparently he'd seen Finchy, a long-time friend of Grimmy's and dragged him down to where they were now and planted himself in his lap while they smoked together. 

Louis was doing that _thing;_ that thing where he thought the both of them were genuinely in a relationship, and that Liam owed him an apology for snapping at him. Liam could see the signs, but he just took a drag of the blunt and coughed out an exhale. Nick always did bring some strong shit.

When Liam, Grimmy and Harry first opened the door, Liam immediately watched Louis climb out og Finchy's lap and attach himself to Harry, taking glances at Liam all the while, to make sure he was watching; trying to make him jealous. _Your hair is so curly_ and _your smile is so pretty,_ and Liam thought he might have heard, _mm, I wanna taste you,_ but he wasn't positive.

There was a time where Liam might have gotten jealous; a time where he would have snatched Louis up by the collar and fucked him right where they were, in view of everyone, so they would _know_ who he belonged to. He woudn't have cared if their relationship was fake, Louis would have been making a fool out of Liam, and Liam would have to prove a point to everyone. _Don't fuck with what's mine._ But he doesn't feel that pull to Louis anymore, he hasn't for a while, and it's not pissing him off as much as it's annoying him. And giving him second hand embarrasment, because Louis is _all over_ Harry.

Liam's in the middle of shotgunning with Grimmy when the door pops open and a blonde boy walks through. He has a snapback on, and his arms are displayed by a tank top, that shows off his armful of tattoos swirling around the muscle in intricate designs that make Liam's pants impossily tight. 

And right behind him is Zayn.

"Sorry," the blonde guy mumbles. He must be Niall, Liam thinks, he fits the description. "Me and Z caught up with -- _shit,_ is that the new stuff Jerry gave us, Hazza? Pass it, will ya?" Liam faintly heard a strong Irish accent in the lad's voice, but his brain was foggy and he only had eyes and ears for Zayn. 

He wiped off his mouth and beckoned him over, letting the smoke Nick had just blown into his mouth billow out when Zayn got closer and stood in the space in front of him, and then he turned his back to Liam and began talking to Harry.

He looked _good._ He had on long pants, they were a dark denim color that hugged his ass just right and highlighted his stong calves; and just like Grimmy's, they were wet and matted at the bottom; he must have stood in the water. His white shirt was clinging to him, and it was all Liam could do not to moan as the light fabric let Liam sneak a peak at all the ink covering Zayn's and lower back. 

These boys would be the death of him.

The joint was still being passed around. When Niall opened the door, he'd let a bit of smoke out, but between the seven of them and one new blunt being lit, the room was fogged again, and Liam let himself settle into the cushions as Grimmy passed the weed to him. 

Zayn's back was still to him and it was driving him mad. He was standing there, carrying on with Harry like Liam wasn't in the room hard and horny and high as a kite, waiting for him. 

"Hey, you," he said. His voice sounded far off, but he knew it wasn't; it was the drugs messing with his brain. 

Zayn turned around, quirking a brow at Liam and holding his hand to his chest as if to ask, _me?_ Of course _you,_ he thought. All I want is you. 

"Come here," he groaned. 

Louis wasn't the only one who got turned on by weed. 

Zayn took a step towards him, that's as far as he needed to go. The room was fairly small, and the counches took up a lot of space, along with the coffee table in the middle.

When Zayn was directly in from of him, bumping their knees together, Liam pulled him down and flipped him over, unable to stop himself. Zayn was sitting on his lap now, giggling and twisting, playing like he was putting up a struggle. All he was doing was rubbing his ass into Liam's erection, so he wasn't one to complain. Finally he settled when the joint came around again. Zayn took it from Grimmy; Liam's hands too full of Zayn's hips and thighs to properly take it. 

The entire room was foggy and light. Zayn was in Liam's lap, toking and blowing smoke in Liam's face then passing it on before Liam got the chance to puff for himself. Harry and Louis were on the other side of the room, Louis sucking on Harry's neck, no longer making sure Liam was looking, but seeming to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Grimmy and Finchy sat on either side of Niall. The three of them were content to be by themselves, hitting the joint, and the pipe Niall had between his fingers, just enjoying their high. 

Liam drew his attention from the rest of the room and back to Zayn. He rubbed his hands up his jean clad legs and laughed into Zayn's back at the shudder he gave. Zayn moved, turning his legs to the side before lifting himself up and straddling Liam's hips. He drew his arms around Liam's neck and started fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. Liam fucking _purred._  

"Someone's excited," Zayn whispered, looking down at Liam and smirking, rubbing down for a flash of a second to tease Liam. _Prick._

"Just glad you came," he muttered, his eyes slipping closed at the feel of Zayn's hands on him. 

"Almost gave up, didn't think I'd find you." He leaned down to nip at Liam's neck, maybe his birthmark; Liam couldn't tell. "Then Harry called and said he found you on the boat."

"Yacht," he corrected.

Zayn hummed out a laugh in his throat before taking a joint from Grimmy and pressing it in between him lips, grinding down to get Liam's eyes to snap back open. He took Liam's chin in his hand and pried his mouth open gently before swooping down and sealing Liam's lips with his own. He exhaled and Liam inhaled, the intamacy making him harder, yearn more; making him want to _touch._ Zayn brought both hands up to Liam's face, even the one with the joint. He gripped him and let the smoke blow between them, smiling at Liam before handing the blunt to Grimmy again. 

"Either way, I'm impressed, rich boy."

This was all moving too fast. Zayn had just shown up, already blowed and willing and ready and at Liam's disposal. And Liam was high and horny and not thinking clearly. But it felt _right_. He might change his mind in the morning if he discovers Zayn wasn't as much of a chase as he'd originally thought. He normally wouldn't want it if it was this easy, it took all the fun out of things. 

He wanted someone worth his time, someone who would put up some resistance before falling to Liam's charms. He wanted someone so much different from himself. He was attracted to opposites. He didn't want things to be simple; the harder he worked to be with someone, the more he would value it. The more difficulty he would have letting it go.

Zayn had just came in here and allowed Liam to take what he wanted, although he was giving it back as good as he was accepting it. 

But all he could think about was Zayn between his hands, with his mouth on Liam's neck. All he could think of was that he was hard and so was Zayn and they were both high and they might not remember anything in the morning, but he _wanted_ this. He wanted Zayn. All he could think of was that there was a room two doors down with a bed and a lock and he why was he wasting time _thinking?_

He pulled Zayn's hair back, tipping his head in his hands and biting at his collarbone, delighted at the sounds he made. _God,_ he was sexy. "Let's get out of here," he murmered, letting go of his hair and dropping his hands to the end of Zayn's shirt, tugging up experimentally. "Let's get you out of these clothes." 

Zayn's breath was heavy, his chest was heaving up and down at Liam's attention to his nipples through his t-shirt. He sucked and nibbled and flicked and pinched, not caring who was looking or hearing. They were all probably too dazed anyhow.

"Fu- _fuck,_ Liam. _Yes._ I thought you'd never ask."

Liam pulled back, grinning when Zayn whimpered and pushed his chest towards his mouth, so he could capture it again. 

He shook his head. Not now, later.

He stood up, wrapping Zayn's legs around his waist and ignoring Grimmy and Finchy's catcalls, and Niall's loud laughter. 

"Let's go then."


	2. I See The Truth Somewhere In Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... this fic is probably going to be longer than I planned...  
> Anyhow, this chapter has some heavy and super cute Ziam.
> 
> Also, Zayn sucks at being a bad boy, js.
> 
> Leave a comment and tell me if you like it, or don't; just reading it is enough for me.

Liam had to learn how to be a light sleeper. Honest, he had to train himself. When one has Louis Tomlinson as a best mate, one cannot afford to sleep heavy.

Louis used to make Liam's life as a child complete and unnecessary hell. He would use one of those permanent markers to etch vile and embarrassing phrases into Liam's forehead and cheeks. If Liam remembers correctly Louis had once stooped so low as to disrobe him at summer camp in his bunk and cackle in the corner when Liam got sent home a week early.

So when the bed dipped beside him he jerked forward and clutched his hands to his chest in a defensive manner. No one was attacking him, of course, but Zayn did give him an amused and somewhat inquisitive look from the other side of the room.

_Zayn._

The same Zayn he'd just slept with last night? The one he threw this insane yacht party for? The one he carried to a bedroom and laid out on a bed and teased until Zayn's moans and screams were attracting attention from the upper deck? 

Liam's lips drew in to a slow and lazy grin. Yeah, that Zayn.

He felt a yawn take over his body as he lifted his arms over his head and stretched out his sore muscles. 

"Good mor--" he looked around the room, trying to find a window that let in enough light or darkness to gauge what time of day it was, then he recalled they were in the lower deck, and there wouldn't be such a thing down here. "Good something, I suppose. 'm not quite sure what time it is."

He rubbed at his eyes, and smiled at the present protest of the muscles in his arms.

He has a flash of a memory; Zayn on the bed, Liam using his built up biceps to hold himself over him and trail kisses down his body, stripped naked and twisting and turning with anticipation. A laugh had bubbled in his chest at Zayn's sharp glare that was followed by a particularly loud moan that earned them a round of harsh foot stampings from the upper-deck.

"You're e--ah,  _don'tstopdon'tstopdon't._  Yo-you're evil, Liam. Fu- _fuck,_ " he panted when Liam kitten licked at the tip of Zayn's cock, heavy and red and hot at the tip of his tongue. He suckled at the head, wrapping his lips around it and flicking his tongue over the slit, wiping away the droplets of pre-cum that had collected there. He laid down on his stomach in between Zayn's spread legs and looked up though his lashes to meet Zayn's eyes before swallowing half his length, wet and slippery and a bit nasty. Spit ran down his chin and tears were trailing their way down his eyes, but the shudder and groan Zayn had emitted at his dick reaching the back of Liam's throat more than made up for it.

The night had only gotten better after that. Liam, the original boy-scout he is, had tucked a pack of lube in his wallet before he left Louis' that night. He used his teeth to rip the packet open, his cheeks flushing when Zayn breathed out a laugh at his lack of finesse. He ignored him and slathered some of the lube on one of his fingers before sinking it into Zayn, his turn to chuckle at Zayn, with his scrunched up face and torn to shreds lips, not to mention the delectable sounds he was making as his hole clenched around Liam's digit.

"You like that,  _hm?_ "

Liam worked up to three fingers in Zayn before Zayn was writhing on the bed, demanding more than requesting that Liam get in him now before he took over for himself. Liam might have liked that, he thought; Zayn in control, using his wiry frame to flip Liam on his back and sink down on his dick, riding him hard and fast, maybe bouncing on him, his head thrown back, coming between them on the sensations of Liam's dick alone. Maybe another time.

He lined himself up with Zayn's hole, glistening and loose and inched himself in, the both of them letting out a collective moan at the feeling. Liam inside him and Zayn around him. He leaned down and bit at Zayn's neck, thrusting his hips and letting Zayn's hips meet his in a crazy and haphazard rhythm. 

Neither one of them lasted long, Zayn coming first and Liam a few more  _in and outs_  behind him. He might have been ashamed if he wasn't so high and over stimulated from teasing and being teased from the moment he draped Zayn over his lap when he walked into the room two doors down. 

Liam collapsed, leaning over to pull a piece of clothing off the floor beside the bed and wiping them up the best he could before tossing the discarded article over his shoulder and bringing Zayn closer to his chest, wrapping him up in his arms and falling asleep.

It had been good; fantastic even, if he was being generous. Some of the best sex he's had in, well, forever, he thinks.

Which is why he's a bit confused at Zayn's back to him, up and out of bed and on the other side of the room; far, far away from Liam.

"You leaving so soon?"

Zayn had the decency to let his cheeks blush at the question. Liam figured that was probably a good thing, if he was going to creep out on Liam, at least he could be a tad ashamed about it.

"It's nearly four in the morning, Liam." He tugged on his jeans and zipped them up, his arms enticing Liam for another round as they flexed and flared around his tattoos. "Grimmy and Niall are dragging Louis and Harry apart at the moment. Finchy cleared the boat a little while ago."

Four in the morning?

" _Shit,_  I have to get my dad's yacht back in the harbor before he leaves for work this morning."

Zayn nodded, picking up a white t-shirt from the floor and sniffing it before scrunching his face in disgust. "Grimmy said to wake you up for that, I was going to get ready first." He stretched out the shirt and shook his head. "Also? You owe me a shirt."

"That's your spunk, not mine," he laughed when Zayn shot the piece of clothing across the room. "I used a condom, remember?"

Zayn's features relaxed for a flash and he smiled at him before picking Liam's shirt up off the floor and slipping it over his head. "Yeah, I remember."

"Then why are you giving me the ol' fuck and duck, hm? Was I that bad?"

Liam didn't mean to sound harsh, and in the end he didn't think he did; but the frown on Zayn's face and the shrug that followed immediately after still made him feel like a wanker.

"I just don't do things like this, man. Not real big on sleepovers, 'specially not on a ship."

"A  _yacht._ "

"'Cause  _that's_  better."

And like that, Zayn had caught Liam's interest again. So he wasn't into relationships, nothing heavy. Did that mean he was into one-night stands? Liam hoped not, because last night definitely called for a repeat. Was he a friends with benefits kind of guy? What did his tattoos mean? Why was he friends with Harry? How were they all friends with Grimmy? When did he get into skateboarding? Why? 

Zayn made Liam ask questions again, and after last night when Liam began to have doubts because Zayn had fallen into his bed almost effortlessly, this was a pleasant surprise. 

Liam wasn't one to give up on something he wanted.

Zayn was looking around the room for anything he missed, seemingly done with his conversation with Liam, or maybe just Liam in general. He looked over his shoulder at Liam, still in bed, sans clothing and he lifted his hand in a small wave and turned his hand on the doorknob.

Liam would regret the swiftness in his movements later on in the morning, with his tired muscles and creaking bones, but he jumped out of bed anyway and shed the covers, snatching Zayn's arm before he could make it out of the room.

The lift of Zayn's lips were infectious and Liam mirrored his smile.

"Uh, Liam?"

"Yeah," he whispered, as if the normal boom of his voice would break the moment of tenderness between them.

"What are you doing?"

Another perk of being best friends with Louis, was the wear down of your verbal filter. He didn't think before he spoke sometimes, not anymore at least. And it wasn't like he didn't want to say all the sweet things his mind could conjure up to Zayn, but he didn't mean for them to slip out so frivolously.

"Come out with me today? Me and you, maybe to the park? The cinema? I  _really_  don't care, just ring me. My number's on that paper I gave you," he said, drawing a deep breath. "I don't know what it is, Zayn. I just-- I want to spend more time with you, I think."

Zayn smiled, the sides of his mouth twitching to fight off the emotion, and Liam swore he could hear his heart patter in his chest. He swore it. 

"You think?"

"I _know,_ " he assured. "I know."

Zayn drew his mouth into a line, feigning consideration. Liam could tell he was joking by the movement in the corners of his mouth. "I don't usually go for a stroll in the park with my one-night stands..but," he sighed heavily, "I guess I'll let you be the exception."

"Awesome," Liam breathed, lowering his head to catch Zayn's lips in a kiss, quick and sweet, but still firm with meaning. 

Zayn leant back, holding his hands at Liam's shoulders, pushing him away.

"But just one date, Liam.  _One._ "

He sealed his lips over Zayn's once more and kept persistent until Zayn's mouth opened under his and his tongue came out to lick over Liam's and dip inside his mouth. 

It was Liam who drew back this time, knowing if they continued, he'd neck let Zayn leave this room and he would be unsuccessful at getting the yacht back in time.

But he did peck at Zayn's lips once more, because they were just right there, and how could he not?

"One time is all I'm asking for."

Zayn snorted and pushed a grinning Liam away and managed to get the door open before Liam could stop him again.

"My goodness, Liam; you're so fucking  _cheesy._ "

Liam let him leave and he fell back onto the bed, smiling at himself and what he had planned for the day.

It was moments later when he reached down to scratch himself did he notice he performed his proclamation of adoration in the nude. 

Hell.

 

 

**/////**

Liam didn't see Louis anywhere when he got to the top deck. He found his phone tossed on the floor where Zayn had thrown it the night before. He didn't have any trouble docking the yacht before his father made his way out to the harbor to make sure he'd made good on his promise.

"I assume this was a classy affair? I won't hear about it in any tabloids?  _Mr. Payne's prodigy throws a rager on his company yacht,_ " he mimicked, clapping Liam on the back in passing on their way back to their own separate cars. 

"No, just a few people," he lied. "Nothing out of the ordinary, father."

Geoff nodded, accepting his answer before slotting his key in keyhole of his newest vehicle. "And that Danielle? Was she there?"

"No sir."

"Good, and Nicholas Grimshaw? You know how Tommo feels about him," he snapped.

"Dad, Grimmy's first name is just Nick, it's not short for anything. And he wasn't there," he lied again. "Lou knows his dad doesn't want them hanging out together."

"For you to be a loving boyfriend to Louis, you sure are defending someone Tommo and myself has found him in several compromising positions with."

Liam sighed, today was not the day for his dad to question his pretend romance with Louis; he wasn't sure he could keep up the facade. "Grimmy's harmless dad, and like I said, he's no longer in the picture."

"Good," he said again, nodding and opening his car door. "I'll see you next week. I expect to hear reports from your teachers that you and Louis are attending school. If I hear anything but good things Liam, I'll have no--"

"I get it dad, just go."

"See you, son."

"Bye."

His father drove off, leaving Liam alone to his own devices and thoughts. 

It was sad.

It didn't occur to him anymore to be affected by the lack of _'I love you's'_ he never received from his dad.

All was well, he supposed. He wasn't entirely sure he could say it back without sticking another lie to his conscience.

 

 

**/////**

Liam went home and slept for a couple of hours, woke up and jumped in the shower before he got a text from Louis. 

_hey bitch come over ive got hangover food and some bud_

He shot off a reply, telling Louis he had made plans already, and hoped that Zayn would text him soon, so it wouldn't be a complete fib.

_wtf idc come over now_

**_be nice_ **

_come over now please_

_**i rlly am busy** _

_you suck bye_

_**lol c u 2nite** _

_you text like a seventh grade girl but ok_

Liam pocketed his phone and went to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

He was putting the finishing touches on his hair, and combing his mini-beard into a more contained fashion when his ringtone went off and his phone repeatedly buzzed in his pocket, meaning he was receiving a call instead of a text message. He fished it out with one hand and slid the lock to answer it, still concentrating on his reflection in the mirror.

He wedged the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

"What do you want, Louis? I told you I had plans, woman," he said, smirking to himself, knowing Louis' reaction would be worth the wrath he received later.

"Do those plans include me?"

Liam didn't drop his phone in the sink, but it was a close call.

"Zayn!" He shouted, and then said his name in a more calm register when Zayn chuckled into his phone through the receiver. "I mean,  _Zayn,_ " he cleared his throat, "what's up, mate? You alright?"

Liam could  _hear_  the smug tone in Zayn's voice through the phone when he spoke. "Someone's excited to hear from me," he laughed. "I'm doin' alright, Liam. Just woke up about an hour ago. For some reason I was so  _tired._  Do you know how that could be?"

Liam watched his reflection smile. "No clue, babe. Did you exercise or something," he said coyly, pleased at the melody of Zayn's laughter.

"Or something."

Liam finished his bathroom routine and exited the room, turning the lights off in his wake and heading for his closet. "So are you calling for our date?"

"I am."

"And what have you decided on, hm?"

It took a while for Zayn to answer, and Liam took the phone from his ear to see if he was still on the line. He was.

"Zayn? You there."

"Oh shit, sorry," he rushed. "I was just thinking. The park sounds nice, I can skate there and back."

Liam picked out a shirt Louis designated as his  _'get laid shirt'_  a few months back, slipping it over his head and examining its fit in his mirror. Perfect. "Nonsense," he corrected. "If it's a date, I can pick you up."

"Nah," Zayn declined. "My board'll be fine. You know the park by the school?"

Liam thought about it and remembered passing by one on his way to public school the Friday before. 

"Yeah, I know where it's at."

"Meet me there? Say, twenty minutes? I have to make sure Niall's up for community service in an hour."

"This late? It's half past seven, mate."

Zayn let out a loud and boisterous laugh into Liam's ear, making Liam's stupid heart flutter at the sound. 

"He has to read down at the old folks center."

"That doesn't sound so had."

"Yeah, well he has to read right before he cleans out bedpans and shit like that."

"Okay, I take it back."

Zayn hummed his agreement. "See you in twenty?"

"See you in twenty."

 

 

**/////**

**  
**Liam left as soon as he pulled his jeans and shoes on. He made sure to grab his phone and keys before locking up and driving down to his favorite restaurant and picking up and order of noodles with white cream sauce. If Lou were here, he'd call Liam disgusting and grimace as he ate it, but Liam enjoyed it, and he hoped Zayn might as well. If not, more for him.

He pulled into the park and scoped out the area, spotting Zayn on the sidewalk with his board under his feet and a beanie over his head. He sat and admired the skill Zayn possessed, gliding across the pavement, moving and turning with a flick of his ankles, letting the board do its job, as well as his feet and balance. He looked, well, rather  _badass,_  but also beautiful; peaceful. He didn't let any emotion show on his face, and once when Liam knew he would fall, he simply let one of his sneakers tap against the ground for a moment, righting himself and continuing on down the path he'd created for himself. 

Liam got out of the car before Zayn could catch a glimpse of him sitting in the car and rib him for being a creeper. He took his bag of food with him, opening it to make sure a set of plastic forks and spoons were inside. He pressed the lock button on his car and laughed when Zayn stumbled a bit at the noise.

"You didn't hear me drive up?"

Zayn cursed under his breath and skated over to Liam, his back foot sliding across the concrete when he got close enough. "Damn rich kid cars, quiet as a church mouse and such."

He attempted to swipe at the bag in Liam's hands, but Liam pulled it back quickly out of his reach.

"Did you bring presents?"

"If I did?"

Zayn made the inch-short jump off his board and came up to Liam, wrapping his arms around his waist and tipping his head up for a kiss. He stayed stationary, enjoying Zayn's lips on his, soft but slightly chapped from the cold. Liam moaned out Zayn's name when he brought one hand up to bring his chin down and open Liam's mouth, slipping his tongue inside and deepening the kiss.

Liam didn't think about Zayn's hand running along his arm until it was too late and he snatched away, with Liam's food in his hands.

Zayn smirked, holding the bag up like a prize and hopping back on his board, talentedly skating backwards while looking at Liam.

"Then it's only nice to share, Liam."

"You bugger, come back here with my noodles!"

-

"You know, I never got any of that rich kid weed you promised."

" _Bollocks!_  We smoked last night before we..you know."

Zayn looked over at Liam from his swing, raising a brow in amusement. "Fucked?"

Liam felt a blush bloom over his cheeks, maybe his chest as well as he nodded, passing the white plastic fork back to Zayn, chewing his food slowly and swallowing. "Yeah, that."

Liam and Zayn had taken a walk around the park, Liam on foot and Zayn on his skateboard, both of them enjoying the cool breeze of the night and the quiet of such a secluded area. They discussed a little about a lot of things. Liam asked him if his tattoos hurt before confessing that he wanted a few himself, but was too afraid of needles. Zayn cooed and called him cute, laughing when Liam slapped his hands away as they came up to pinch his cheeks. Zayn asked Liam why he and Louis had to come all the way downtown to attend school when they lived so far uptown, near the docks. Liam shrugged and told him about the drugs Dani had brought to Louis' and had himself a chuckle at their parents' terms for punishment.

"You must be really stuck up to think that public school is a punishment," he said, laughing and skating circles around Liam as they walked the concrete trail around the park. "You're lucky they didn't make you take the bus, I imagine. Louis would have a heart attack."

About their sixth time around, Zayn ditched his board in the sand and walked beside Liam, not protesting when Liam joined their brushing fingertips. They continued their talk for as long as possible, but when Zayn's stomach growled and Liam questioned if he was hungry, he decided they should head back to where Zayn stashed their food --  _Liam's, really_  -- and eat a bit. Zayn said he could wait a while, despite his obviously hungry stomach and Liam was forced to haul him to the swings over his shoulder, while Zayn kicked and screamed and demanded to be put down.

He loved it.

The food was cold, but still edible and they passed the fork back and forth between them, Zayn only offering to feed Liam once before Liam's petulant glares became too much and he laughed, almost spilling the noodles in the sand. After that they sat in comradery and ate, teasing and asking more questions.

"That weed Grimmy had was mine," Zayn spoke around a mouthful of noodles. "Mine and Niall's, actually. We got more than a couple pounds a week ago. He came 'round Friday and got it."

Zayn stabbed at the container, gathering a mouthful for Liam and handing him the utensil. 

Because he was a civilized human being, he waited until he chewed and swallowed his food before speaking. "Well I guess you're already smoking rich kid bud," he shrugged, motioning for Zayn to take back the fork. "We get all our stuff from Grimmy, usually. Have since we were, what, fifteen, I think." He shook his head when Zayn offered him another bite. "Sorry 'bout that."

Zayn mimicked his actions and shrugged, drawing Liam's attention to his lips when he slurped in a misshapen noodle. "'S all the same weed, dude. I wasn't complaining, just saying."

"To be honest, I don't know the first thing about weed. I smoke whatever Lou or Grim bring over. Just wanted to impress you."

" _Me?_ "

"Yes,  _you._ "

He hummed in wonder, taking another large bite and closing the lid, tossing the box in front of him and kicking it when it landed under his feet.

Liam was sure he would regret this as soon as he said it, but he went along anyway. "The whole party was for you, in fact."

Zayn's head snapped towards Liam's direction, disbelief spelled out on his features. "The whole party?"

Liam nodded.

"You threw a  _yacht_  party to impress some kid you met at school?"

He nodded once more.

Zayn scoffed playfully, pushing his feet off the ground and propelling himself forward and backward on the swing. "I know I'm hot as fuck, Liam, but you could have just asked me for my number."

"Your modesty is what really drew me in."

Zayn tilted on the downswing to punch Liam in the shoulder. "Oh, bug off."

Liam feigned a hurt expression and drew his hand up to his shoulder. "I do all this for you, and this is how you treat me? I'm offended, Zayn."

They had a laugh between the two of them and then Zayn's facial expression changed, turning from light and playful to downcast and serious. He dug his heels into the sand to stop himself and peered over at Liam. "You didn't have to do all that, though. I'm not worth all that trouble."

That statement rubbed Liam in the wrong places, making his hands itch to reach over and touch Zayn, wipe the sadness off of his face; comfort him. He stood up out of his swing and walked the few steps to stand in front of Zayn, dropping to his knees to be at more of an eye level. Zayn questioned him with a quirk of his head and Liam tugged at his torso, bringing him down to the sand and lying back with Zayn on top of his chest.

Zayn let out an  _oomph_  at the surprise but smiled down at Liam all the same. That was better. Liam liked Zayn's face at more of a happier disposition, it gave a foreign pull in his chest when Zayn's face was contorted with sadness.

"You're worth it to me, obviously."

Zayn rolled his eyes at Liam's overly sweet one-liner and dipped down to kiss him. 

"You don't even know me," he whispered over Liam's lips, kissing him again and again and again; chastely but purposeful. 

"But I want to," Liam whispered right back, loving the stretch of Zayn's smile on his lips. 

Zayn groaned and dug his hands into the sand beside Liam's face, propping himself up over Liam, leaning back in Liam's lap.

"We're really gonna have to do something about those pick-up lines, Liam," he sighed, but not harshly, more lighthearted than anything. " _Honestly,_  this is getting out of hand."

Liam grinned up at him, loving the way the street lights illuminated his face and body to Liam in the dark, making him look almost angelic. 

"You know what I think," he said, his voice low and heady, his eyes catching the flash of heat in Zayn's eyes.

"What do you think?"

Liam reached beside his head, catching Zayn's hands in his own, grasping them and using them to pull Zayn back down to him, ghosting his lips underneath Zayn's, enjoying the feel of his breath on Liam's face. "I don't I don't need lines to pick you up."

Zayn's hips moved of their own accord, shifting so he could be closer still to Liam, their lips still not touching, the both of them reveling in the coy teasing of the moment. "And why do you think that?"

Liam smiled and the corner of Zayn's mouth turned up in return. He almost puckered his lips to meet Zayn's, the both of them being that close, a pucker of the lips was all that was needed for them to join completely. But not yet, in a minute. After Liam had laid his cheesiest and most cliché line ever on Zayn.

"'Cause I've already got you."

And then he let their lips touch.

-

Of course Zayn rolled off of Liam in a fit of laughter after that, but Liam rolled right beside him and they remained like that for a while longer, talking and kissing, giggling and asking questions; just enjoying one another's company. They lost all track of time, and Liam was watching Zayn's mouth move, not hearing a thing he was saying; content to watch him discuss things from his favorite movie to what he wanted to do when he grew up. Zayn's face was animated when he was talking about something important to him, mostly skating, with a few stories about his family and Harry and Niall mixed in. Liam wouldn't dare say it out loud and risk another ribbing for being incredibly cheesy and teenage-girl like, but Zayn's eyes shone in the light when he rambled on about skateboarding; why he enjoyed it, how it made him feel, why it mattered so much to him.

"You're different," he commented during Zayn's monologue.

Zayn looked a tad confused, so Liam went on to explain his assessment. "When you're not in school or whatever. You're more," he struggled to find a word, coming up empty, "I don't know, _relaxed?_  Nice, I guess. I don't have to try so hard to get you to notice me."

"You're a bit different when you're not trying to get in my pants, as well."

Liam rolled on top of him, biting down flirtatiously at his earlobe. "And who says I'm not trying to get in your pants, babe?" He faked a moan, soaking up the light and airy bursts of laughter coming from deep inside Zayn's chest. "Mm, you're so hot,  _baby,_ " he groaned, nuzzling at Zayn's chest, trapping his hands in between them so he couldn't shove him away. He smiled cheekily down at him. "Is that what you meant?"

Zayn just nodded and lied back, looking smug and inviting, beckoning Liam in for another round of heated kisses and soft touches. 

Only when Liam's phone went off did he snap out of his daze long enough to notice anything other than Zayn. He mumbled an apology and sat up to fish his phone from his pocket before leaning over and dropping a kiss to Zayn's nose, laughing when he blushed and pushed Liam away and hid his face in the sand.

He opened two texts from Louis

_its past eleven dear are you coming home or should i leave your dinner in the stove for when you get home_

_aka come home before i lock you out dick_

"Do you realize we've been here for over three hours," he asked Zayn, whose head was still dug into the sand.

He turned his head to the side, bringing his hand up to brush the grains off of his face. "Really? It doesn't feel like it's been that long."

Liam shrugged. "I'm fun to be around. It makes the time go by quicker."

Zayn snorted up at him. "Who's the modest one now?"

"Just taking a page from your book, love."

"I assume that's Louis telling you to book it home, hm?"

Liam pocketed his phone, not bothering to reply right away. He laid back down beside Zayn in the cool sand. "He can bug off if you want to stay longer?"

"I really should be getting home -- or Harry's -- soon. I left my phone there, he's probably worried sick by now. Niall also, they can be some real mother hens, those two."

"Alright," Liam sighed, sitting up and trying not to be disappointed. "I can drive you if you want?"

Zayn stood and dusted himself off, offering a hand to Liam, pulling him to Zayn when he was up and kissing his cheek. For Zayn to be a bad boy, he was sugary sweet. Liam thought it suited him, he liked it. 

"That'd be nice."

"Grab your board and we'll go?"

-

The car ride was short as Zayn instructed Liam where to turn and what streets to take, all the while his hand stroking the inseam of Liam's jeans, his fingertips dragging up and down the fabric, almost making Liam turn sharp into the side of the road.

Zayn didn't say anything, just kept his eyes forward and his smile poorly hidden. The ass.

"This is it," he said. Liam stopped abruptly and flipped off the ignition; getting out of the car, pressing the locks closed with his automatic locks when Zayn reached for his own handle. He zipped around to the other side and unlocked Zayn's side of the car, opening it and dodging a flying fist when Zayn went to hit him.

"I  _swear,_  Liam. You're straight out of a fucking Disney Princess movie."

"Does that make you the princess?"

Zayn glared at him and hid his face in Liam's shoulder when he pulled him close near the side of the car. " _Cheeky._ "

"Only for you."

Liam felt Zayn's groan vibrate through his chest. "Oh my  _god,_  Liam."

Liam's head snapped up from its place on Zayn's head when he heard a screen door slam open.

"Zayn Malik, is that you?!"

"Zayn! Where the hell have you been, mate!"

"Ugh," he moaned into Liam's chest. "Put those arms to use and make them go away, will you?"

"Are you saying I have nice arms, babe," Liam asked, smirking down at him, laughing at the soft roll of his eyes as he pulled away.

" _Zaynie!_ " Niall cried out when he reached them, distancing Zayn fully from Liam and wrapping his arms around him. "Hey," he nodded towards Liam. "Liam, right? Good to see ya, mate. You alright?"

"Fine, just enjoying my date with Zaynie, here."

Zayn scowled at him. "Don't you dare start calling me that, Liam."

Liam raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. "Alright, alright."

Harry stood at the curb, smiling brightly at Liam and shivering in a pair of shorts and no shirt. 

"We'll leave you to it, then."

Liam shook his head. "I'm about to get going, Louis' texted me half a dozen times already."

Liam noticed Harry's interest peak at the mention of Louis' name. "How's he doing? Reckon he has quite the hangover right now."

Niall laughed. "Brother drank three bottles to 'imself last night. He was all over Harry, high as a kite; horny lot of you," he said, giving the remaining three of them a pointed look.

"Yeah, I should probably run by and check on him."

He took a step in Zayn's direction and unwrapped Niall's arms from him, pulling him in by the chin for a last kiss. "I'll see you at school, then? Or maybe for another date?"

Zayn chewed at his lip, looking at Harry and Niall. Liam swooped his head to the side, kissing him again, ignoring Niall's obnoxiously loud catcalls. 

Zayn pulled away from him, but didn't step back, rather stood in his arms. "I agreed on one date, Liam."

His voice was soft, but not quiet enough for Liam, Harry and Niall not to catch. Liam tried and failed to hide his disappointment. He thought this was going well? There was so much more he wanted to know about Zayn. The thrill of being with someone dangerous was gone, and Liam nearly slapped himself on the forehead for being so superficial, judging Zayn's personality by the holes in his ears and the amount of ink on his skin. 

"C'mon, Zayn, the guy threw a party to get your attention!  _Give him a chance!_ " Harry was still shaking, the chill of the air biting at his skin, making him shiver in his spot.

"Hey," Liam called, "how'd you know about that?"

"Lou told El," Liam's eyebrows shot up at Harry's use of Louis' nickname, but he let him go on, "El told Grimmy and Grimmy told me. Try harder to keep your secrets next time, man."

Liam nodded and turned his head back to Zayn, who was still in his embrace, crowding closer to escape the cold. "See? Even your friends like me. Can't get much better than that, love."

"You're such a kiss ass, Liam," he said, his accent rounding out on the vowels in Liam's name, making him pull Zayn closer, press a kiss to his cold lips. 

"Please," he muttered. 

"Li--"

"Pretty please."

"Mate,--"

"Hurry up, Zayn! I'm cold!"

"Then go inside!"

"I want to see how this ends!"

"Please?"

"At least try to get a Benz out of it, Zaynie!"

"Niall!"

"What?! I've seen his and Louis' rides, Harry. He can swing it."

"Is that what it'll take to get you to go out with me again? A car," he breathed over Zayn's face, grinning stupidly, knowing from the equally stupid look on Zayn's face that he was breaking; bound to cave sometime soon. "'Cause Niall's right, I can get you one."

" _See!_ "

" _Jesus Christ,_  you don't have to buy me a bloody car," Zayn whispered. "Okay," he yelled, shoving Liam back jokingly, only squirming a little when Liam pulled him back in. "Another date.  _One_  more," he said. "You have to win me over for every one after that."

"I can do that."

"Yes! Okay, Nialler, let's go inside. I think my balls shriveled up inside of my body."

"Ah, Harry, that's too much, mate."

Liam grabbed Zayn's board out of the backseat of his car and handed it to him. "See you at school, skater boy."

"Get out of here, you loser," he said, but lifted the soles of his feet to reach Liam's lips one more time before he left.

Liam drove across town to Louis' and found the front door unlocked, with a sleeping Louis snoring away on the couch. He carried him up to his room and dropped him in bed, yanking the covers up over his body. 

He didn't climb into bed with him like he usually would. He couldn't explain why, but it would feel wrong to him. So he took the living room couch for himself and sent off a text to the number Zayn called him on earlier in the day.

**_goodnight zayn have good dreams xx_ **

He didn't have to wait long for a reply, his spirits lifting higher than they already were when he read the message.

_stop liam im getting cavities_

He'd call the day successful.

 

 

**/////**

**  
**Liam woke up to a very annoyed Louis and a surprisingly sympathetic Mrs. Tomlinson.

"You could have at least texted me where you were, you twat," Liam woke with a pillow in his face, being risen and struck down over and over again. "Where did you even  _go?_ "

"Lou," his mum called from the kitchen. "Leave the boy alone and go get ready for school. I have an interview with the local station today, I don't need them asking questions when you leave for school earlier than the regular kids."

Louis scoffed at his mum, leaving Liam on the couch and climbing the stairs with heavy footsteps. "Regular kids, mum? We're not challenged, we're being  _punished._  Hell."

Liam heard a door slam and then a shower start up later. He rose from the couch, stretching his arms. 

"You might want to hide those marks on your neck," Mrs. Tomlinson commented as he passed by to head upstairs. He felt at his throat and smiled when his fingers brushed over a sore spot that Zayn must have left on him when they were lying around in the sand. "And tell Louis to stop putting those on you, there's no class in hickies, Liam."

Like he needed another reminder of one of his lies. He nodded his understanding and trudged up the stairs, opening Louis' bedroom door and sorting through the closet before finding a pair of jeans and a shirt that were his. Half of his wardrobe was at Louis' anyhow, so he didn't have to search very hard.

Lou stepped out of the bathroom with a towel strewn around his waist. He didn't speak when Liam asked him what time he wanted to leave, so Liam shrugged it off and headed to the shower, turning it on and letting the hot water seep into his bones. 

He thought of Zayn, all tattooed skin and wicked sense of humor, tuckered out beside him from an exhausting round of sex. Maybe it would be at the park, behind one of those trees, a far cry from the public view of the pavement and swings. He gripped his dick in his hand, thinking of Zayn on his bed at home, his pretty pink mouth open slightly, panting out his name and obscenities. He imagined Zayn on his skateboard, his calves flexing around the tattoos there, sweat making his shirt cling to his back and his hair clumping with beads of the same sweat pooling around his head underneath his hat. 

He pumped himself, reaching down to play with his balls, calling out Zayn's name, careful not to be too loud though, should someone other than Louis hear him. He came over his fist with the picture of Zayn's lips wrapped around his cock, sucking and taking him deep, his nose grazing the hairs near the base of Liam's dick.

He finished washing up and got out of the shower. He didn't bother with his hair, not feeling up to it this morning. He ran a razor over the hair on his face, but not too close, because he sort of liked the way it looked. He'd brought in boxers, so he slid those on and his pants next. By the time he was putting on deodorant and cologne and slipping his shirt on, Louis was yelling at him to hurry up. He brushed his teeth and ran out of the bathroom and quickly tied up his sneakers on his feet. His rucksack was in his car, so he'd have to grab that before jumping in Louis' car.

He jogged downstairs and snatched his phone off the coffee table and went outside.

He grabbed his sack and opened the door to Louis' car.

"Nice of you to join me this morning," he snarked before pressing his foot to the gas and driving on.

"Aw, don't be mad, baby," he drawled sarcastically, smiling successfully when Louis cracked a smile. "I'll smoke with you when we get home, okay? Don't be a goose, mate."

"I'm not being a  _goose,_  Liam," he sighed. "What does that even mean?"

"'Dunno, sounded good at the moment." 

Louis let a few beats of silence ass between them before sighing unsurprisingly dramatic for this early in the morning.

" _Fine,_  I'm not mad anymore. But you owe me three hours of Gossip Girl for last night. I waited for you and now I'm behind."

Liam banged his head against the car window. "Why do you watch that horrible American television show, Lou. It's ridiculous." 

Louis pursed his lips at Liam, exasperated. 

"I don't watch it for the plot, Liam."

"Why do you watch it then?"

" _Chuck Bass._ "

 

 

**/////**

Feeling like a right jerk for ditching Louis the day before, Liam allowed Louis to drag him across town for uptown take-out on their lunch hour, instead of using that time to search out Zayn like he'd planned. They made it back in time for the five minute warning bell before the next class was set to start. They met up again before their last class when Liam had to put his books back and get a notebook out. 

He'd see Zayn soon, he knew. He'd scanned the halls for him all day with no luck. He considered sending him a text, but didn't want to appear too clingy. 

"What's got you buzzin', Li?"

"I told you to stop saying that wo--"

" _Liam!_ " 

Liam looked up from his locker to see Harry and Niall strolling down the hall towards him; Harry on foot and Niall on a board similar to Zayn's. 

"Hey, mates. How're you?" He clapped Harry on the back and accepted an unexpected hug from Niall. 

He watched Louis look Harry up and down, a bit appreciatively if Liam was honest, but foreign, like Harry was a new face, instead of one he'd been making it with two nights before.

"We're good, Li," Niall said, letting his arm hang over Liam's shoulders. "Had to pretty much sedate ol' Zaynie after you sent 'em that text last night. Wanker wouldn't go to bed."

"You were with Zayn last night," Louis asked, not looking pleased. "The same Zayn you threw the party for?"

Liam palmed his face in his hand. "Lou, you've gotta stop telling everyone that."

"Just asking, Liam. Thought you didn't swim in the same pool twice or something like that?"

Niall and Harry laughed.

Niall said, "I'on't think that's it, Louis," at the same time Harry chimed in with, "Does that mean we're not on for a repeat?"

Louis' mouth fell open at Harry's comment, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. "Did you just try to  _hit on me_?"

"I--"

"I don't even  _know_  you."

"You kissed me, babe."

Liam and Niall played spectators to the game of back and forth unfolding before them. Louis took a defensive stance, his rucksack thrown over his shoulder and his books tucked under his arm. Harry was leaning against the locker beside him, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth with a sly smirk on his face, enjoying this way too much for his own good, his arms crossed over his chest and a beanie concealing his curls with a bit of kohl under his eyes, making him appear darker and more mysterious than Liam knew he was.

"I did  _not,_ " Louis informed him. "I've never seen you before in my life."

Harry nodded, his smile growing wider at the memory. "On Liam's yacht, ask any of 'em. Li, Niall, Zayn, Grimmy and Fincham were there." He nudged his head towards Liam. "Go on, ask."

Louis squinted his eyes at Liam, trying to gauge out an answer. Liam rubbed at the back of his neck, lifting his shoulder up a smidge. "You were kind of all over him, Lou."

Louis hands shot up in annoyance, flailing around wildly. "My  _god,_  Liam. Can I count on you for  _nothing?_  If I make out with someone, you're supposed to  _stop me_." He dramatically rolled his eyes and inched closer to Liam, away from Harry. "Stop  _staring_  at me, you're creeping me out."

"Just admiring the view," he quipped, laughing low at the bewilderment on Louis' face. 

"You are too much. Liam, make him stop."

Harry took a step backwards and let Louis have room to breathe, raising his palms in surrender. "I'm done, I'm done." He focused his attention on Liam, speaking to him directly. "But Liam, you should come 'round tonight. Zayn won't stop talkin' bout ya, the idiot. 'M cookin', so it'll be edible. See you there, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll uh, talk to Zayn about it first."

Harry waved him off. "'M sure he'll love it, he's right sappy today." He turned to leave, bumping Liam and Niall's fists on his way down the hall. "Oi!" He called to them down the hallway. "Bring Louis around too, hm? Niall and Samantha'll be out. I don't like to play third wheel, mate!"

Liam and Niall laughed when he tripped over a boy whilst walking backwards. 

He faced his locker to ask Louis, but his best mate was already shaking his head profusely, waving his pointer finger in the air. " _Nope,_ " he started, "don't even ask."

"Lou--"

"I leave you alone for one day, Liam.  _One._  And you're being invited for dinner with your new boyfriend and his obnoxiously obscene mate." He glared. "Who  _are you_  right now?"

Niall flipped his board up, catching it with one hand and looping his arm through Louis', dragging him down the hall towards the theatre room and away from Liam.

"Harry's not that bad, Lou."

"He's wearing  _guyliner,_  Niall."

"It's fashionable, brother."

 _"What has my life become?!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what'cha think? :D


	3. If I Could, I Would Look At Us All The Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eek! this was longer, but I took some things out. there are a few things you might want to know.
> 
> 1\. Finchy aka Matt Fincham is called Matt and Finchy in this story, this chapter in particular.  
> 2\. Grimmy aka Nick Grimshaw is called Grim, Grimmy, and Nick in this story.
> 
> just so you don't get confused. 
> 
> this has some cute ziam fluff in it, and it explains a bit of harry and niall's living situation.
> 
> this was supposed to be 20K tops, as you can see i created a monster.  
> anyhow, hope you like it!

"Stop begging, Liam. It's very unbecoming of you."

"I wouldn't have to beg you Lou if you'd just suck it up and come."

"I was going to make a sex joke, maybe a blow job one; but I'm above that."

" _Louis._ "

" _No,_ Liam. I'm not going to a boy's house," he reiterated, "especially not a poor boy that you let me kiss when I was _high_."

Liam tapped his pen against the worksheet in front of him on the kitchen table, sighing at his best mate and marking down all the correct answers. "It was a lot more than kissing," he mumbled, concentrating on his maths instead of a grumbling and pitiful Louis who was pacing around the room with a certain dramatic flair, his hands alternation from sitting on his hips to being thrust into the air in extreme exaggeration. 

"What exactly did I do, Liam? Don't raise your eyebrows at me. That's right; I heard that little statement under your breath. What did we do?"

Liam shrugged, scribbling out the last answer and sorting his papers out before placing them in his bag and leaning back in the kitchen chair. "Made out with 'im a little, sucked on his neck, I suppose. Lot of frottage between the two of you."

" _Frottage?!_ "

"Dick on dick with clothes thrown in."

"Oh, _Liam,_ " he said, drawing out the vowels in Liam's name, sinking to the floor with his hands raised to the ceiling as if to ask God _why._ Liam chuckled, always something new with Louis. 

"Don't laugh, it's not funny."

"But it is," Liam says, shaking his head and getting up to pull Liam off the floor. "He's a fit fellow, you should go for it. Seems nice enough."

They walked up the stairs, Louis' hand still in Liam's and both laid down on the bed. Liam reached into his pocket to shoot Zayn a text to give him a head's up on his current absence if he couldn't get Lou to cave sometime soon.

"But Li, I don't consort with the help. That's your territory."

Liam laughed and pushed Louis over on the bed, turning to his side to look at him. "Come off it, Lou. They're nice guys. And they aren't the _help._ " He ruffled Louis' hair, just because he knew Louis would get frustrated when he had to fix it. "I think Harry is actually interested in you."

"I don't blame him. I'm an interesting person."

He hummed a sound akin to agreement. Louis _was_ interesting. He was fun to be around and the perfect friend to have in any situation. He was handsome and funny and he cared deeply about his friends. Liam could see why Harry would be interested, mostly because Louis was so persistent in saying no to him, and Liam had always been a big fan of the chase. 

"I'll go with you if Grimmy comes."

The announcement shocked Liam. He was staring so hard at Louis, distinguishing all the great qualities about him that he barely registered what Louis had said in the first place. But when the words caught up to his brain, he sat upright and pumped a fist in the air, wiggling his butt into the duvet on Louis' bed in an attempt at a happy dance.

"What are you buzzin' about?"

Liam ignored his hatred for that stupid word and pulled Louis up by the arm and grabbed his own keys off the bedside table and proceeded to drag him downstairs. 

"I said _if_ Grimmy comes, Liam. You haven't even asked yet."

Liam stopped at the door to smile at Louis and take out his phone. He scrolled to a text message Zayn had sent him some time after they'd gotten out of school. 

_no its ok grims here were waiting on niall get here with some bud before his date_

Louis squinted at the screen and gave a sour looked to Liam when he finished reading, his lips pressing together tightly enough to push themselves out in a pout. "That doesn't mean he's still there."

"Niall doesn't get off work 'til six."

"Dammit."

He pulled Louis out the door and idled by his car until he finished locking up the house. 

When they were in the car, well past halfway across town, Louis reached forward and turned the volume for the radio down, turning to face Liam. 

"What," he asked.

"Please don't make me go, Li. Please, please, _please._ "

"What's the matter? Grimmy'll be there, I'll be there," he said. "I won't even let you shove your tongue down Harry's throat this time."

" _Liam._ "

He smiled and turned the radio back up, turning on the street that he thought he remembered lead to Harry's. 

"Don't pout, Louis. It's _very_ unbecoming of you."

**  
****/////**

 

Louis doesn't wait for specific instructions to come inside when they get to Harry's. Liam doesn't know why he's surprised. 

He just opens the screen door and walks right in, waiting for Liam to follow and shouts out his arrival to the rest of the house. "I'm here and I was promised food, so get on with it, Harold."

He heard Grimmy groan out in disdain. "Only _I_  call him that, Lou."

In the daytime, Liam gets a chance to really look at the house. It's well built, not ragged or falling apart like Liam always pictured houses outside of his neighborhood. Liam's picked up enough hints and gathered enough information to know that Harry and Niall don't live with a set of parents, and that Zayn mostly crashes here. It's evident in the various skateboards scattered by the door, and the shiny golden trophies hanging from the walls or sticking up on shelves. There's a coat rack that's a mess of leather and cotton and a suede number that he recognizes as Nick's. 

It's not an apartment; it's a house. It's got a foyer and everything. He walks slowly to view the pictures lining the walls; pictures of Harry and a man and woman that could only be his parents, with a girl that looks strikingly similar to him whom Liam assumes is his sister. He sees a frame with a photo of Zayn and three girls that share his features, but their faces are so smashed together with bright smiles highlighting the dimples in their cheeks that Liam feels like he's intruding, so his gaze wanders on to the next picture. Niall is there with a man and a woman, stuck between the middle of them with a smile plastered on his face that Liam can tell isn't genuine. He looks uncomfortable, as do what Liam supposes are his parents, and he lets himself walk past the rest of the pictures and into the living room.

The room is well decorated; the floors lined with a plush carpet that he feels the feet of his sneakers sinking into. There's a large couch and loveseat in the living room sat in front of a wide television. He looks over to his side to see into the kitchen where Harry's puttering around, mixing dishes and stopping to taste a spoonful of what ever he's cooking. He begins to wonder how a kid who can't even be eighteen can afford all of these nice things; a wide screen telly and high class art on the walls. He would ask, but he's not one for prying. 

Plus, he imagines Louis will question it soon enough.

"Liam!" He looks ahead of him. Grimmy is on the couch with a lapful of Louis and a grinning Finchy at his side. Liam is confused at who called to him when he notices Nick's long fingers digging into Louis' sides. He rolls his eyes and takes a seat next to Finchy and searches the room for Zayn.

"He's in Harry's room," Matt nods to the door left of the television. "Been locked in there for a while, if you want to go see him."

"I'll give him some time alone," he says, trying hard to stop his body from ignoring his request and walking across the room and opening the door so he can catch a glimpse of Zayn. He stays seated and watches Grimmy try to make Louis admit to something or other; he can never tell with the two of them.

"Nonsense," Harry yells from the kitchen. "Go get him, Liam. He's been waiting for you all day," he says, stirring something in a pan with his head looking over his shoulder so he can speak to Liam. "Zayn!" He shouts. "Come out, mate! Your hand is going to _chafe!_  Liam and Louis are here! Stop being a bugger and come greet our guests!"

Liam blushes at the implication that Zayn might be masturbating, but remembers his actions this morning in the shower and finds himself hoping that if Zayn is touching himself, he's thinking of Liam while he does it. 

Zayn comes out of the room immediately, a glare on his face, hastily making his way to the kitchen to beat on Harry. Harry nods his head back in Liam's direction and he watches how Zayn's face lights up as he makes his way into the living room and plops himself in between Finchy and Liam.

"Hi," he says. "Sorry about that, I was-- I was sleeping." 

The color in his cheeks told Liam that he was doing no such thing, and after what Harry said and how Zayn was reacting, he moaned a little at the clear image of Zayn's hand wrapped around his own dick. 

"Mhm," he hums. "Sure you were, babe."

Zayn flushes more and knocks his shoulder into Liam's and leans over to hide his face from a cawing Grimmy and Fincham. "You suck," he mumbles into Liam's shoulder. 

Liam lifts his arm and lets Zayn sidle underneath it before pulling him closer and whispering low in his ear, grinning lewdly at his responding tremble. 

"I can if you want me to."

It's Zayn's turn to groan, a little more annoyed that Liam was hoping but still a hint of amusement in his words. 

"I don't _like_ Pornstar Liam. Where's the Prince," he demands, trying to scoot himself away from Liam before Liam lifts him out of the space between himself and Finchy and sits Zayn in his lap. "I liked Prince Charming Liam better."

"Oh goodness, you two. Get a room, 'm gettin' a sugar rush just lookin' at ya."

"Shut _up,_ Grimmy."

**  
**/////** **

 

Niall came and went; changing clothes and boarding off to his dealer's house and boarding right back, dropping off a backpack of weed in his room and switching out his shoes. A taxi picked him up and Zayn made sure his tie was on proper before letting him leave. Harry assured Liam that Samantha was a nice girl, even if Liam didn't really ask. But he seemed to care a lot for his friend, and Liam was no stranger to that, so he let him ramble on about how they'd met at Niall's job in the mall, and Liam listened as best he could while at the bar with Zayn at his side, fiddling with his fingers on the counter top. 

That was extremely hard. 

Finchy told Grimmy he had to go tend to some things across town and that he'd pick him up later. He dropped a kiss on Grimmy's forehead and did the same to Louis before exiting with a wave to Harry, Zayn and Liam.

"Hey, Lou!" Harry called to him from the kitchen and Liam wondered what he was doing, calling him Lou and pretending they were common friends. He knew Louis wouldn't be perceptive to that, but if Harry wanted to try he could be Liam's guest.

"Yes, _Harold?_ "

"Come help me in the kitchen, yeah?"

Liam and Grimmy snorted at the same time Louis scoffed, nearly dropping his phone on the coffee table. 

Liam and Zayn shared a look as Louis rose from his seat and slowly walked to the kitchen, looking at Harry who didn't seem phased at all by the glare Louis was shooting him. In fact, he smiled back at him.

"Five bucks he tries to strangle him with a dishtowel," Zayn whispers into Liam's ear, taking the opportunity to bite at his lobe and worry it with his teeth. "Actually, ten bucks he throws the toaster in the dish water and shoves Hazza's face in there."

"Fifteen he does neither," he mutters back, sliding his hand into Zayn's lap and rubbing him through his pants, laughing at the fast hitch in his breath. "One of those involves manual labor and the other makes him get his hands dirty. There's nothing Louis hates worse than dishpan hands."

They both chuckle and sit to watch. 

"Do you know who helps in the kitchen, Harry?"

Liam already knows where Louis is leading with this, but it doesn’t make it any less amusing. Grimmy is packing a bowl in the living room, blind to what's going on around him. Liam almost wishes he could pull his phone out without being caught; he thinks Grimmy would like to see this later on.

"Who?"

"The _help,_ " Louis quips, sarcasm laced in his voice and hands on his hips, leaning against the doorway and painfully ignoring Harry's bright and sunny mood. "Do I _look_ like the help?"

Liam prays to anyone that's listening that he says no.

Harry stops stirring for a minute to turn and examine Louis. He looks him up and down, peering forward to get a good eyeful. Zayn and Liam shift uncomfortably beside one another at the tension strung tight in the air as they all wait for an answer.

Harry lifts one of his shoulders in a shrug, much to Liam's dismay, and says: "I dunno, you could pull it off."

Zayn laughs at his side and Liam disentangles their fingers from where they've intertwined themselves under the bar, getting up to wrangle in Louis from where he knows is about to be a very infuriated reaction.

" _I_ \- uh, _what did you just_ \- I know- but- _Liam!_ "

Liam manages to catch Louis around the waist just before he throws himself at Harry. It's not like he could do very much damage, Louis couldn't win in a fight to save his life, but Liam held on to him as he thrashed angrily at Harry, informing him that he did _not_ look like the help, at all, and that he didn't appreciate being told so.

"It was a compliment, love."

" _How_ is that a compliment?!"

"It means you look very helpful, like you want to do something," Harry started. "Unless you've been looking in here all night for other reasons?" Liam laughed at the wiggling of Harry's eyebrows and the put upon sigh of Louis. 

"Liam, leave the kitchen."

Liam looked down at him. "What? Why?"

"I'm going to help this jackass prepare a meal."

"Are those keywords for making out?"

"No, Liam."

Liam considered that this might be a trick for Liam to let him go so he could attack Harry, maybe stab him in the eye with fork or something. But he figured Harry might have deserved it for working Louis up so much, so he unwrapped his arms from around him and took Zayn's hand, smiling at him and leading him into the living room.

"Grimmy smoke that in the yard! I'on't want it smelling up the place while we're trying to eat."

Grimmy inhaled and grinned at Liam and Zayn before letting smoke billow out of his mouth and rising, taking his bowl with him, disappearing down a corridor and opening and closing an outside door.

He turned to Zayn and took in his messy hair, mussed from lying down on a bed, and the pair of sweats around his hips and the thin white shirt that made Liam very aware of his peaking nipples being effected by the temperature of the room. 

"Wanna make out," he asked, his libido taking over his brain and canceling out anything cliché and sweet he could of thought of. Zayn's eyes rolled and he tugged the front of Liam's hoodie and pulled him down, positioning them horizontal on the couch and smiling on his lips. 

"Why the hell not."

**  
**/////** **

 

Liam tries to pay as much attention to Zayn as possible with one ear glued to the kitchen, so he can make sure Louis doesn't throttle Harry. Zayn makes it especially difficult when he sucks on Liam's neck, in the same spot he remembers Louis' mum pointing out earlier in the day. Liam tries to slide his hand in between the waistband of Zayn's sweats, but Zayn shakes his head and says they can kiss but he's not doing that with Harry a few feet away, not sober at least.

Liam doesn't mind, he enjoys just kissing Zayn, sucking at his skin and licking into his mouth, tasting Zayn, remembering that night they shared together, imagining him moaning and squirming underneath him. It makes him hard and throbbing and he tries with great difficulty to not press his erection into Zayn's crotch. Thankfully, or not, Harry calls them into the dining room just when Liam's arms are about to give out under the strain. 

They walk past the kitchen and Zayn leads him to a slightly bigger room that holds a plain but sturdy wooden table with a dark finish that Louis is seated at. He notices right away that Louis' lips are a bit swollen, like they've recently been kissed. He coughs and smiles into his hand as he takes the seat across from Zayn and beside Lou.

"Nice lips," he greets Louis, smirking at him, keeping his voice low enough to keep it between the two of them.

Louis doesn't look up, rather content to keep his eyes on his plate where he's using his fork to stir around a plate of spaghetti with red meat sauce slathered on the top and a green salad pushed to the side. "Nice hickey."

"Touché."

Harry comes into the room with a flat pan of bread that he hands out to each one of them. His lips match Louis' and Liam looks at Zayn, who's looking at his best mate and hitting him playfully when he passes by him. "I asked Grim if he wanted any, said he already ate." He dished out a little extra spaghetti on everyone's plate and then sat down, placing the bowl in the middle of the table and telling them to dig in.

"Oi!" He shoots up out of his seat and returns with a bottle of wine Liam faintly remembers seeing on a wine list at a fancy restaurant uptown that his parents had taken him to for his eighteenth birthday.

How did he get his hands on that?

He pours wine in each of their glasses, taking a few swings in between like it's a bottle from the general store; the ones that come in boxes.

"Are you a drug dealer?"

Liam almost chokes on his first sip from his glass when Louis blurts out the question. 

Harry and Zayn chuckled to each other, dismissing Lou's question and chewing the food in their mouths. 

Harry looked across the table at Louis, his eyes amused and held up a finger, telling Louis to give him a second to answer. He finished and took a long drink from his own glass.

"No, I'm not a drug dealer," he answered. "Niall is, I reckon. Zayn mostly smokes people out and Grimmy's the only person we mutually share with. But no," he shook his head. "I'm not a drug dealer."

Louis' eyes are decreased to slits as he stares at Harry and tries to catch him in a lie, maybe in the way he scratches the back of his neck while he says it, or lets his eyes flick from Louis to Zayn, as if he's unsure of what to say. Liam thinks he might be pulling their chain at the moment, but it really is none of his business.

"Then how the hell do you afford to live on your own and drink a low class Château like it's a can of _soda pop_."

Obviously boundaries were not of huge concern to Louis.

Zayn laughs as Harry blushes into a napkin.

Liam doesn't understand what's amusing so he just twines his legs around Zayn's underneath the table top and takes a bite of his bread, dipping it into the spaghetti sauce and chewing slowly. 

"My dad pays for most of this shit," Harry says, the smarmy confidence from earlier now gone from his voice. 

"Does your dad sell drugs?"

Liam sharply digs his elbow into the lad's side. " _Louis,_ " he warns.

Harry waves away his concern with a flick of his hand like it doesn't bother him and Liam thinks that maybe his dad _is_ a drug dealer, or something else illegal, because Harry looks embarrassed and like he doesn't particularly feel comfortable talking about this, but he goes on anyway.

"My dad sells clothes, 's all."

The way his forehead tightens tells Liam he's not uncovering the entire truth, but it suffices him, and he hopes Louis will drop it now that Harry has answered his question. 

"Harry, this is delicious. Really good, mate."

Harry shrugs with a bit of modesty laced in his posture. "'S nothing. Zayn told me how much you liked pasta. My mum taught me ho--"

Louis interrupted his explanation. "Your father works at a department store and affords Château and a Zuo Modern coffee table?"

"Louis let it go, Christ sakes."

"He owns a company, actually. Just one down in London or som'thin'."

Liam furrows his brow. Before his mum left, she and Louis' mum had been deep into the fashion market. If Harry was connected to a company in London, he's sure he would have seen him at an event or two.

 _Harry Styles._ He lets the name roll around in his brain. Harry _Styles._ It rattles around for a while before it clicks. Styles. _Styles and Sons;_ the prestigious designer that was responsible for backing a majority of other designers financially until they created their own line and mainlined the wardrobe selections for the entertainment industry. He was pretty sure he owned a few Harry and Sons suits back at home, _positive_ Louis owned several as well.

Holy shit.

"You're Harry _Styles?_ "

Harry didn't speak at first, just nodded, swallowing more food. "That's me."

Louis looked affronted at his side, miffed that Liam had connected the dots before he did. "Why did you say his name like that? Who the hell is he?"

"Styles."

"I heard you the first time."

" _Styles,_ Lou. Think about it."

Louis clapped his hand down on the table, rattling the dinnerware. "Liam, I am thinking about i--" He stopped midsentence. "No bloody fucking way."

Liam nodded. "Yes way."

"Styles as in Styles and Sons, Styles?"

Harry didn't look like he should have, which would have been proud and beaming that he's been recognized and Liam looked over to see that Zayn didn't look happy either, the both of them sullen and quiet, not commenting on his and Louis' discoveries.

"Where have you _been,_ mate! Why didn't you tell us? My mum works with your mum, Anne's at our house _all the time!_ So is Gemma. Lovely girl, that Gemma. Do you have a brother? Two brothers? If not Styles and Sons is a little bit of a false advert, but I suppose that's alright. I heard Rita Ora gets first pick of dresses, is that true? How is it being that close to the entertainment industry? What was your childhood like? _Harry,_ answer me."

Liam sits in shock at Louis' long winded speech, as do the other fellows. He hasn't heard Louis speak that much to Harry, or to anyone besides himself in forever. The silence that sits in between the four of them is almost unbearable and Liam hopes someone breaks it soon, and that that someone isn't Louis.

"Me and my dad don't really talk much."

And that's all he says. Liam doesn't mind, albeit he's a bit curious, but Harry's discomfort is evident in the taunt pull of his shoulders and Zayn's hand coming to rest above his on the table.

"'Cause he's a right prick," Zayn mumbles, stroking his thumb over Harry's knuckles, back and forth, smiling at Liam apologetically as if Liam and Louis aren't to blame for Harry's quick change of mood.

"Oh. _Well--_ "

Liam grabbed Louis by the shoulder, perhaps a little too abruptly, but necessary. He wouldn't make even more of an ass out of himself in front of Zayn and Harry. He wanted whatever he had with the former to last, and letting his best mate intrude on Harry's strained relationship with his folks was not the way to do it.

"Louis, shut up, will ya?"

The sharp glare of Louis' eyes didn't startle Liam like it would have anyone else; he was used to it. He brushed Liam off and turned his attention back to Harry, much to the displeasure of Liam. "I was going to say, ' _well_ I'm sorry, my dad's a right prick also', before I was _rudely_ interrupted." He shot another dangerous look at Liam, who shrugged his shoulders, because how was he supposed to know that Louis would pick this one time to be nice to Harry? 

"Don't worry about it, it's a perk that comes with the life of the rich and famous." Louisraised his glass to a toast, waiting fot everyone around the table to awkwardly lift theirs as well. "Here's to selfish parents with fat wallets and even fatter egos."

He was a tad confused as to why Zayn nodded in agreement, but he didn't question it; not with all the tension in the air already. 

Harry's smile was back in full force, his dimples returning and his eyes shining at Louis with that same mischievous spark they'd had before. Liam grinned at him and Zayn, rubbing his foot across Zayn's ankle, chuckling quietly when his cheeks lit up a lovely shade of bashfulness.

"I can drink to that," Harry cheered, all of them chugging back the rest of their glasses.

"I have a feeling you can drink to _anythi--_ Harry if that's foot sliding up my leg I will throw the pasta all over your stupid pretty face."

"So I'm pretty now," he said, smiling in amusement at the quick banter that took no time to return between the two of them.

"Zayn, would you be a doll and hand me that wine? I'm gonna need it."

 

****/////****

 

After that, dinner is a blast. Louis and Harry swap quips back and forth and Zayn and Liam laugh at them; mostly Louis while he denies anything going on between the two of them and squeaking an indignant _no comment_ when he's asked what happened between him and Harry in the kitchen. 

Liam thinks he recognizes the moment when Louis simply cannot resist Harry's charms for a minute longer. Harry's rushing them to clean off their plates, getting a kick out of Louis' face when he has to place his own plate in the dirty dish water so Harry can clean it. Zayn goes to make sure Grimmy's not passed out in their backyard; he isn't. Liam wonders what the big hurry is when he leaves Harry and Louis in the kitchen and pulls Zayn down to his lap on the couch.

"Zayn, turn it on! 'M gonna miss it."

Zayn leaned forward in Liam's lap, struggling to reach the remote on the coffee table with Liam's hands wound around his waist. He managed and flipped on the telly, rolling his eyes as Harry trailed after Louis into the living room and flipping to one of those pesky American channels that Liam loathed, but was familiar with because they entertained Louis.

"You watch Gossip Girl?"

Liam maneuvered his head onto Zayn's shoulder, opening his legs a but wider and scooting back into the couch more, so he would fit proper, and Liam could see Louis' facial expression from where he was sitting.

His mouth was open in awe, and the hint of a smile was playing on Harry's face.

" _Do_ I watch Gossip Girl? What kind of question is that? Who _doesn't_ watch Gossip Girl?"

Harry and Lou didn't seem to mind when Liam and Zayn's hands flew up in the air to clear up that they did not watch that American crap, not willingly at least. But the two of them were locked into each other some how before Louis launched into questions to test Harry's knowledge of the vapid show.

"Chair of Dair?"

"Chair 'till I die."

"Who's Gossip Girl?"

"Dan."

"Dan's younger sister's name."

"Is this supposed to be _hard?_ It's Jenny."

It was amusing to Liam to watch Harry -- who was decked out in tattoos on the entire visible span of his arms and the hoop pierced through his nose, with dark liner surrounding his eyes -- answer questions about a teenage soap opera. 

"They're crazy," Zayn said, looking back at Liam over his shoulder.

Liam nodded into his back, where is head was now rested. "They are. They're missing the show, even. Think we could turn off without them finding out?"

Zayn hummed his disagreement, the sound vibrating through him to Liam. "There's not much on TV anyway. Rather sit here with you, to be honest."

Liam stomach turned over at the words, shocked that Zayn was taking the alternative and not mocking him, giving Liam a taste of his own medicine and saying nice things to him instead. "Look who's being sweet now."

Zayn pinches at the skin on Liam's hand in front of his stomach and laughs. "I'm just trying to butter you up so I can get some on our second date."

It's the first time either of them has brought up the date and Liam grins big at the mention, excited that Zayn's taking it seriously and not blowing it off by calling it the dreaded term: _hanging out._ He feels a bit giddy.

He ignores the sexual remark and talks in Zayn's ear, low and seductive; attempting to work him up. "And where would you like to go, _hm?_ I can take you somewhere fancy, somewhere me and Louis usually go. I could get us a table," he says, "right in the back, somewhere private. Would you like that?"

Zayn doesn't answer, just squirms in his lap.

"Before they take my car to park it I could suck a mark," he guides one of his hands up and across Zayn's chest; trails his fingers to Zayn's collar, prodding the flesh there just above the neck of his shirt, "right _here._ Would you let me do that, Zayn? Give you one like you gave me, hm? So everyone knows you belong to?"

Zayn's head is falling back slowly, his eyes closed, eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as his mouth opens. " _I don't belong to you,_ " he breathes, but it comes without much conviction, like he's trying to convince himself, or maybe he's just following along with Liam's script, saying the only thing that comes to mind.

Liam moves him even farther back, lays a kiss on back of his neck, soft and gentle; teasing. "Not yet." 

He lets Zayn move in his arms, needy and whining, low so they can't be heard over the bickering of their best mates and the thrum of the television speakers. Liam's hard, has been since Zayn stepped out of Harry's room in a pair of sweats that highlighted his own bulge and the curve of his bum. He can't control the jerk of his legs when Zayn rolls his hips backwards into Liam and he has to bite hard into his bottom lip to suppress a groan. 

The steady and sure movement of Zayn's body gives Liam's head plenty of dirty ideas for the aforementioned next time, but one sticks clearly to the front of his mind.

"I want you to ride me, Zayn," he lets the words fall from his mouth when Zayn rolls down on him again, his hands taking Liam's and placing them on his thighs, close enough to his member that Liam can trace the outline with his thumb. "I want to lay back next time, let you do all the work. Hop up and down, slide on me and just _lose_ it." He emphasizes his words with a tug to Zayn's lobe, chuckling into his ear when he cants upwards.

"And what," Zayn chokes, trying to still his movements, but trying in vain when Liam lets his hand graze over the tenting erection that's lying under the thin fabric of his sweats. " _Ah_ \- what makes you think there's gonna be a-- _fuck,_ Liam, _quit_ \-- next time, rich boy?"

He's tempted to haul Zayn over his shoulder and to the nearest bedroom and finish what he's starting, but that would require movement and Liam's not sure his legs would work properly in order for that to happen. So he moves one of his hands, the one not resting over Zayn's cock, and sets it on Zayn's tummy, sliding underneath his shirt and feeling the bare skin and patch of hair that he's already familiar with; already _knows_. He lets his pinky finger run along the band of Zayn's sweats, making him pant out quietly above him. 

"The way you look at me," he says. "The way I can tell you _want_ it; me, this, _us._ " He ghosts breath across the side of Zayn's face, watching his lashes flutter at the impact of his wording. "You fight it, but I know you want it, Zayn."

"You're so sure of yourself," he replies, letting his head fall back into Liam even more, baring his neck, tempting Liam to sink his teeth into it and bite, maybe even suck. He just wants to pleasure Zayn; make him feel good.

"You want me as much as I want you."

"And _\--shit--_ how much is that?"

"This much," he mutters, simultaneously leaning down a bit to bite the side of Zayn's neck that's within reach and grinding his hips up, his dick hard and thick in between Zayn's ass with their pants serving as the only restrictions.

What Liam doesn't expect is the loud and undeniably sexual moan that comes out of Zayn's mouth, rocking through Liam and alerting Louis and Harry of their actions.

"What are you doing to him, Li _\-- oh my god --_ we're right _here,_ " Louis shouts, halting his and Zayn's movements, but not making them spring apart. "I'm trying to watch Gossip Girl, Liam. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!"

Zayn's chest is red for a reason other than his arousal, but Liam refuses to be ashamed. They're both hot young men, he's sees nothing wrong with what they were doing; he's a bit proud of it even. Zayn's fit and Liam's lucky to be the one with the exclusive privilege to let his hands roam over his body.

"If you're jealous, Lou, we could be doin' the same thing," Harry drawled. "I got a bed in the other room. I'll even play GG in the background so we won't miss it."

"Stop _hitting_ on me, Harold!"

"Lou, I told you, only I call him that."

"Grimmy? How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to see you lot flirting and shoving your hands down each other's pants. Must be somethin' in the water with you four. Also, Harold could you call Finchy? I'm _positively blowed,_ friend."

"Sure, Grim."

"I was not flirting with Harry."

"Blimey! I could cut the sexual tension with a knife, love."

"I could cut _you_ with a knife."

"Hey, you wanna go outside with me?" Zayn was getting up and out of Liam's lap, holding out a hand to help him up. "They're a little too much for me right now."

"Sure," he says, following Zayn to the front door and helping him into his jacket. 

He looks a little silly with his cheeks red and his leather jacket clashing with his worn out sweat pants, and his tattoos peaking out of the sleeves. 

The sit on the front steps and Liam's surprised when Zayn pulls a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. "I didn't know you smoked, other than weed."

Zayn shrugged and held one between his lips, flicking his thumb over the lighter and lighting up the end, taking a nice long puff and letting the smoke billow out of his mouth and mix with the cool chill of the air. "I was out when we went to the park," he explains. "I was fine for the day. 'M tryin' to kick it, but someone groped me in a living room full of people."

He squints his eyes at Liam, but it's not hateful and Liam's amused. 

"Shame on whoever did that, then."

Zayn laughs and chokes on a cloud of smoke, settling under Liam's arm when Liam claps him on the back a few times. 

They're outside for a few minutes when Finchy pulls up and Nick stumbles out with a wave to Liam and Zayn and gets in Matt's car almost colliding with the cab that parks itself on the curb.

Niall gets out dressed in what he left in, his tie slightly askew and his hair a mess, but he looks like Liam's learning he always looks like; cheeky and cheerful. 

"Liam!" He calls out to them on his walk up and plucks the cigarette from Zayn's fingers, taking a drag and handing it back, letting the smoke come out of his nose and mouth as he spoke. "Didn't think you'd still be here, thought I was gonna miss sayin' goodbye to ya."

"I think me and Lou are about to head out in a minute."

Zayn looks at him from where he's tucked under his arm. "You are?"

Liam tries not to coo at how fucking adorable Zayn is being tonight, and he nearly fails, but he kisses him instead, not minding the bitter aftertaste of the smoke that was just in his mouth, suckling lightly on his tongue, almost pulling him into his lap before Niall coughed at them.

"Sorry, Niall," he apologizes and smiles at Zayn, kissing him on the lips once more before hauling the both of them up and turning to go inside. "I just get carried away with this one."

"No worries, Li. 'M the same way with my girl," he laughs, opening the door and stepping inside.

"I'm not a girl, you twat."

"Aw, you know what I meant, Za--"

"What the hell?"

"About fucking time if you ask me."

In front of their eyes, thankfully, because if Liam hadn't of seen it, he never would have believed it. Harry was on the couch, his elbows holding him up over a person. Their heads were together and Harry was giggling into said person's neck, dropping a kiss or two there.

Said person being Louis.

When the trio of Zayn, Liam and Niall spoke, the two of them broke apart, Harry rolling onto the floor, banging the back of his head on the coffee table when Louis pushed him off. Louis' head sprang up over the back of the couch. He tried to stutter out something along the lines of an explanation, but Liam and Zayn weren't having it, and neither was Niall. They were nearly doubled over at the sight before them. Harry whining about hitting his head and Louis' lips bitten red and blubbering out excuses.

He rose from the sofa and marched past them to the door.

"Liam, we're leaving."

"Lou--"

" _Now._ "

"Okay, okay." Louis opened the door and slammed it behind him, leaving Harry dazed and confused on the floor of the living room and Zayn, Niall and Liam still laughing. Liam gave his apologies to the lad on the floor and fist-bumped Niall. 

He took Zayn in his arms and kissed him, proper enough but not too intimate in fear that they would once again start something neither one of them could finish. 

Liam could only take so much in one day.

"I'll see you tomorrow? Hopefully in more than one class," he asked, enjoying the fit of Zayn against him. 

Zayn wound his hands around Liam's neck. "Meet us before class starts? We'll smoke together in the parking lot across from school?"

Liam's brows furrowed. "Is that safe?"

Zayn scratched at his scalp, kissing him and pushing him playfully out the door. 

"Stop worrying so much, Liam!"

 

**/////**

 

When Liam got to the car and unlocked it, he and Louis climbed inside. He started the engine and buckled his seatbelt, taking off down the street and back to Louis' house.

It was too quiet, neither one of them caving and turning on the radio; admitting that something was wrong.

Liam looked over at his friend and chuckled to himself at Louis' wild hair and his wrinkled shirt, not to mention the bruise of his lips.

Feeling particularly brave he decided to just bite the bullet and let Louis get everything out in the open.

"What was that all about?"

"Shut up, I don't want to talk about it."

"Ever?"

" _Never._ "

Liam nodded, pressing the power button on his stereo and turning the volume down low, in case Louis changed his mind.

A few more moments passed between them.

"So how was the kis--"

" _Liam Payne,_ shut your mouth."

 

 

**/////**

 

  
Louis refused to talk to Liam about the night before with Harry, so he just stopped asking. He got ready for school and texted Zayn when they were on their way. He'd stayed up late last night, racking his brain for ideas about his and Zayn's second date, but he was coming up short.

His dad sent him an email with an invitation for him and Louis to some girl's Sweet 16. Her parents were a big deal, and he and Louis were meant to attend on their father's behalves while they were away. 

Louis was excited, he said it would give them a chance to do something other than hang out with Harry, Niall and Zayn. He said Harry's name with resentment, as if Harry had _forced_ Louis to kiss him, or make out with him on a couch in his home; which Liam knew was not the case. And even if he knew their public school stint would be extended if he declined, he replied to his dad's email saying that he was busy that night, and he wouldn't be able to make it. 

Louis was furious, but he would get over it.

Maybe Liam wanted to go to public school longer.

If it meant being with Zayn or something sappy like that.

"But Liam, _I_ don't want to go to public school for any longer than I have to. There's no purebred air there, _none._ I feel faint every time I walk in. I'm coming down with something. _Poverty._ "

Liam rolled his eyes, pulling off the exit to the school and ignoring Louis' whines. 

"Harry's a purebred. He's a Styles." He chides himself for not recognizing the name before, stupid Liam. "And if you ever feel like passing out, I'm sure he'd give you some air."

"That was so funny, Liam. Look how hard I'm laughing," Louis deadpanned, not in fact laughing a bit. 

Sour twat.

He saw Niall and Zayn boarding around a parking lot adjacent to the school and Harry sitting on the sidewalk next to them. He pulled in the lot and parked Louis' car that they'd taken that morning; the Audi. Niall had mentioned wanting to see it, so Liam thought he'd bring it along this morning for his benefit.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Lou. He likes you, you obviously like him, just go for it."

Louis opened his car door and spoke to Liam through the door. "I don't obviously like anyone, Liam."

Liam shrugs, smiling when Zayn skates his way over. "If that helps you sleep at night."

"My 1000 thread-count sheets help me sleep at night."

"I bet Harry has 1020 counts. He's richer than us."

" _You take that back._ "

"'S true," he says before catching Zayn when he hurls him off his board and into Liam's arms. 

"Hi." Zayn smells incredibly dank, like he just finished smoking several bowls, and Liam assumes he probably had. His pupils are dilated as all hell and his quiff is falling due to the wind. He's displaying his arm pieces today with a short sleeve white shirt that reads: _Cool Kids Don't Dance._  

"Hey," Liam replies, lifting Zayn off the ground for a split second in a hug, spinning him around so his back is to the car. "Did you start without us?"

Zayn gets the giggles and laughs in the expanse of Liam's arms. "We did. We were waiting, but you took so _long._ " Liam couldn't help but think that Zayn resembled a child, high like he was. It was an alternative to the horny Zayn that was all over Liam on the yacht. This Zayn couldn't stop smiling, and the smallest things amused him, like Liam's stubble he was rubbing his hands across or the birthmark on his neck he was snickering at. "Wanna hotbox your car?"

"Sure," Liam agreed. "Anything to keep that smile on your face."

"Aha!" He shouted, standing on the tips of his toes and propping himself up and over Liam's shoulder to holler at Niall. "Didn't even take him five minutes, Nialler! You owe me 10 quid!"

Liam laughed. "Did you bet on me?"

He patted Liam's cheeks with both hands, squishing them together. "It's okay," he whispered, winking at Liam. "I'll split it with ya."

"You're cheeky today."

"'S only fair, _Leeyum._ You're cheeky _every_ day."

"Pretty much."

"Are we hot boxing or what? Class is in fifteen, you fools."

"Is that an Audi? Liam you're awesome, mate!"

"It's _my_ car, Niall."

"Can I touch it?"

"I don't care."

"Sweet, I could _kiss_ you right now."

"Just get in and please don't."

-

They're high walking into school, but Liam can't bring himself to care; not with Zayn skating beside him and his best mate trading sugestive glances with one of his newest mates. 

He goes to his morning classes, floating around, thinking that public school isn't as bad as he originally thought it would be. Zayn made a point of seeing him in the hallways, skidding to a stop for a second to kiss him or pinch at his bum, smiling into his mouth at the whoops and hollers of their fellow classmates before skating off with Niall, barely escaping angry teachers with grabby hands that made futile attempts to get the boys off their boards. 

At lunch Zayn and Niall convinced Liam and Louis to eat with them in the parking lot. Louis and Harry made a quick drive over to Harry's to heat up and bring back last night's left over spaghetti and some leeks he ordered in when they left. No one commented on the odd pairing, not even when they returned with grub and Louis gave Harry a mile wide berth.

At the moment Liam was sitting with the fellow, laughing as the wind swept his curls all over the place, to and fro, annoying him to no end. Zayn had stolen some noodles from Liam's container with a kiss and a wave as he joined Niall to skate around for a bit. Louis was trying to keep them away from his car, yelling and being stern until Niall rolled him up a joint on the flat top of the trunk and he was content to sit in front of the hood.

Harry and Liam were on the sidewalk of the school, enjoying their friend's laughter and Lou's pot induced antics, slurping up the remaining noodles before Harry produced a flavored water for them to share.

Liam was lost in the way Zayn moved on his skateboard; elegant but dangerous, sliding and grinding on rises in the concrete and keeping his feet steady and sure, like he'd done it a million times, while he flipped the board in the air with a high jump from a ramp by the stair way. 

"Where's Zayn's favorite place to eat," he asked in between a bite of speghetti and a sip of water.

Harry quirked his head to the side then looked at Liam. "Is this about your date?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

He cracked his knuckles in front of his chest, lowering the side of his mouth sympathetically at Liam. "It's no where around here, Li. He likes that place on 15th well enough, though."

Liam shook his head. "No, his _favorite_ place. Where is it?"

"It's not around here."

"Harry, I don't care. Where is it?"

"It's the Treehouse Cafe, mate. Just some stupid sandwich in Bradford."

Liam processes the information. Bradford is over three hours away. Is that where he's from? Did his parents live there? That girl in the picture? It frustrated Liam that there was so much he didn't know about Zayn, when he'd left himself as an open book for the past few days.

But it has only been a week, not even.

He could wait, he would. Zayn was worth it. He was worth shitty cafeteria food smells and the extra gas money and the shit he would take from his dad and the permanent scowl on Louis' face, except for when he was kissing Harry or smoking with Niall. He was worth it.

"His mum used to take him there," Harry said, his eyes not meeting Liam's. "And before you ask I'm not sayin' anything else about that. Zayn's real secretive about shit. But the Treehouse Cafe is his favorite." He picked up a shard of glass from the curb, turning it over in his hands. "When I was still on talkin' terms with my pops, I flew him out there. Don't think I've ever seen him so happy. Well, before now."

"Now?"

"You."

And that's how he decided. 

He rose from the concrete and strode toward Zayn, nodding his thanks to Harry and making his way across the parking lot.

He didn't need to know Zayn's entire back story to know that he wanted this. He didn't care if it was too short of a time to decide so precisely that he wanted so much from someone; from a group of people. He didn’t care if his dad took away his cars and his money and his clothes and his stupid scholarship he had waiting for him when he went back to prep school. He didn't care if Louis was angry with him, he would thank him later.

He wanted to stay here, he's never been in love with a feeling before. He loved the feel of freedom, with no restrictions; no hold-backs. He wanted to watch Niall skate and help Harry cook and get high with Grimmy and tease Louis for being so smitten and taste the cigarettes in Zayn's mouth and be  _happy_. 

What was so wrong with wanting to be happy?

He got to his mates and pulled Zayn and Louis up by their arms with Niall's help. 

"What are you doing, Liam?" Louis looked like a prodded cat, hair in disarray from the weather and expression temporarily distraught. "What the hell are you so happy about?"

Zayn was sated and grinning at Liam's side, his hands crawling up Liam's arms and back.

"Can I borrow your car for a few hours, Lou? Can you hoof it home with Harry and them until I get back?"

"Where are you going?"

"Can I borrow it?"

"I guess," he sighed, put up and grumpy until Harry walked up, a smile flitting over his face for a brief second before his face pinched up again. Liam shook his head at his best friend; disappointed with him for fighting this so much, when Liam knew he would love it if he just let go for a while. "But hurry back, I don't want to be stuck with _this one_ for too long. I'll have no one to protect me with you gone."

"Hey, you kissed me first, _again._ "

"Isn't class about to start? Let's go, we're gonna be late."

Louis rushed away and threw the keys at Liam when he realized he'd gone off with them. 

He pocketed the keys and looked at Zayn, taking him in, not caring if his gaze was heated and passionate in front of Harry and Niall.

 _God,_ this boy would be the end of him.

"Be ready tonight, okay? Say, around seven?"

Zayn frowned, and Liam brought his hand up to smooth the lines from around his mouth with his thumb. "I'm not going with you?"

Liam smiled and shook his head, meeting their foreheads and puckering his lips to press a kiss to the very tip of Zayn's nose. "No, I've got to go set up things for our date tonight. I'm trying to impress you."

Zayn snorted, laughter rumbling in his chest. "Who goes on a date on Tuesday?"

"Me and my baby."

"Oh my _god,_ Liam."

"Zaynie was right, he's got lines for days! Li, you're my new wingman, brother."

"You have a _girlfriend,_ Niall."

"I won't _always,_ Haz."

Liam kissed Zayn's lips before sending him off with his friends.

"I mean it, Zayn! Be ready at seven! And Harry, you leave my mate alone!"

He settled himself in Louis' car.

He typed in Treehouse Cafe, Bradford, UK in the GPS installed on his phone and drove off with a smile on his face, and a reason to _finally_ be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the feedback i've gotten from this story has been fantastic, you guys are lovely. if you ever have any questions, just leave a comment, i'd love to answer them for you. you've been great, really.
> 
> tell me what'cha think! :D


	4. I Can See You Looking Back At Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! Up a bit later than I expected! It's a pretty long chapter, anyhow. Lots of cute Ziam and some Larry as well.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There's a lot he could say about his trip to The Treehouse Cafe.

It takes too long and he's exhausted. Its dirt cheap and Liam hasn’t a clue what to order, so he settles for everything. They only had a selection of roughly twenty-five items, including deserts, so Zayn had to like 1/25 of what he brought. He fights with himself on whether or not he’s making the right decision, but Zayn is waiting for him and he’s already here, so he might as well suck it up.

Bradford wasn't London and it felt cramped in comparison, even with the small suburb they lived in outside the big city. He doesn't have trouble finding it, his GPS is spot on. He has to park on the curb. The cafe is tucked in between two ma and pop stores. A chalkboard easel is on the sidewalk with the restaurant’s title written in pretty cursive handwriting. It's quaint on the inside, wooden tables filling up the place with kids his age biting into sandwiches and an older couple holding hands in the corner. It's bright and sunny, the windows let in a breathtaking light from the street. He can see why Zayn would like this place. The sidewalks outside accommodate passer-bys and rough looking kids on skateboards and bikes. It's homey and the people are friendly, especially when Liam puts a large order in. He thinks Zayn would fit here.

He looks around for anything that would call out to him, anything that would signify Zayn had been there. He looks over the walls and the windows, leans forward to see things hidden behind a counter. It’s silly to think that a town Zayn had left behind so long ago would still have a piece of him in it.

He could have imagined it but he thought he saw small wheel treads on the tile, small enough to match those of Zayn's skateboard; but his mind was probably playing tricks on him. 

One thing that caught his eye was a picture on a wall closest to the back room, a small canvas painting with black swirls and lines; he'd seen it somewhere before, some time recent. The cashier, a blonde girl with long arms and a big smile, had to snap her fingers at the back of his head to break his trance just before he realized the canvas was a tattoo of Zayn's. Zayn's arm piece was strikingly similar to the painting.

He got out his wallet, handing his credit card over to the girl. “Do you know painted that?”

She seemed confused until her eyes trailed to where Liam was looking. Her face lit up with recognition, or remembrance, maybe both. “Oh, that? It doesn't go with the place, does it? 'S kinda dark, innit? That's Zee's,” she said, handing Liam his receipt and card, ducking down to dig underneath the cabinet. She came back up with a cooler to pack all of Liam's things in before sliding it to him across the counter. “He used to be a regular. He moved ages ago. My mum found it when she was cleaning and hung it up. It reminds us of him. Good guy, Zee. Tough around the edges,” she shrugged, “but decent once you get to know him.”

Liam could have asked. He had the opportunity standing before him. He could have questioned her about what happened, why he left, where his parents were. If she knew, that would be great. If she didn't, Zayn would be none the wiser. He could have inquired the information Zayn wasn't willing to share with him and connect the dots on his own.

But he wouldn't.

Liam wanted Zayn to trust him. He wanted Zayn to tell him all of his secrets of his own accord. He didn't want to know anything Zayn wouldn't tell him until he felt comfortable enough to do so.

He thanked her, smiled and waved once he was out of the door and got in the car. 

He sat there for a while, thinking about what he'd just done. He'd driven three hours to get gourmet sandwiches and cakes for a boy he hardly knew a thing about. He started Lou's car and turned back the way he came. 

He left an uncovered part of Zayn behind him, and he so badly wanted to turn right around and find out whatever he could. But he didn't. He got back on the highway that was a straight shoot to home and didn't look back.

Not much, anyway.

 

**/////**

 

“Liam, blind folding me fulfills a handful of my kinks, but I've skated this path a million times. I know we're going to the park.”

Liam laughed and steered Zayn straight, his hands on his hips, their feet colliding occasionally, making Zayn trip. But Liam always caught him. “I can confirm that, yes. We are going to the park.”

He got back and hour or so ago. He had to run to Harry's to pick up Lou and go to the store to scramble up some last minute items for their date.

Liam made Louis wait at the park with their things, so no one would steal them. Niall was following after Zayn and Liam on his skateboard, keeping a far distance. He had to help Louis back to Harry's in the dark. Harry was with Finchy at the house, already knowing what Liam had planned. He clapped him on the back and told him Zayn would love it and then the both of them struggled to get a blind fold over the lad’s eyes.

“A repeat, Liam? Really?” Liam lifted him over the rise of concrete before Zayn tumbled over. “I thought you were going to impress me.”

“I think you'll like it.” He stopped Zayn with his hands and carefully untied the cloth covering his face. “Look at those eyes,” he uttered, kissing the bridge of Zayn's nose and calling out to Lou. “You can come out, Lou. We're here.”

Louis' head peaked around the wall of bushes, where Liam had hidden his surprise in a nook of nature, that created an open space surrounded by trees and vinery. It was the most stunning place in the park, also the most secluded. Niall had whispered about it to Liam when he came to pick up Louis, telling him it was the perfect place for a date. 

“I swear, Liam, if I get grass stains on these trousers, you're buying me four new pairs.”

“Stop crying and follow Niall to Harry's house.”

Zayn chuckled at his side and Louis grumbled a response. “I don't know why I can't just go home.”

“'Cause Harry has Gossip Girl queued and Niall has a bag of weed.”

“You make very good points.” He sighed and handed Liam the lantern that was in his hands. “Go on, you crazy kids. Have your date or whatever.” He pecked Liam on the cheek and patted at Zayn's ass. “I've got to go watch the Chair wedding.”

“The what?”

“Never mind, have fun.”

They watched Niall skate off and Louis trail behind him. When they were out of sight, Zayn tugged Liam towards the natural gateway that led to his surprise. “'C'mon, I want to see this.”

Liam followed along with the lantern but stopped Zayn just before he could stumble inside. He instructed him to turn around while Liam made sure everything was ready. He set the lantern in the middle of the terry-cloth and went to stand behind Zayn again.

Liam kissed the downy hair in back of Zayn’s neck. “Happy second date, baby.”

Zayn opened his eyes and stared. Liam had a cloth laid out over the ground. He'd swept up all the leaves and sprayed for bugs. On top of the cover was a picnic basket he'd picked up at a general store, he laid the sandwiches out on paper plates he'd bought from the same place. There were twelve sandwiches, five pies and four small desert cakes spread out. Their drinks were in the cooler with the cafe's insignia on it, along with four small bowls of soup that were on the menu. The lantern is illuminating all his hard work and lighting up the look on Zayn's face. 

Zayn's face.

His mouth is open, a result of the gasp that had came out at the sight, but he isn't _saying_ anything. He looks shocked, and he's not smiling. His eyebrows are drawn together tight and his eyes are unreadable. Does he not like it?

Liam moves to stand in front of Zayn, worried. He takes his face in his hands, thumbs reaching up to smooth out the hard lines in his forehead “Do I mess something u-”

Liam doesn't have to worry about if he messed anything up, because Zayn winds his arms around Liam's neck and grips the back of his head, smashing their lips together. The kiss doesn't go deeper, it’s just their lips moving against one another's, closed but passionate.

Zayn pulled Liam's hair, yanking his head back to look at him proper in the eye. “Is this from Treehouse?”

Liam nods. “Yeah, Harry told me it was your favorite. I- uh, didn't know what you liked so I got, well...”

“Everything,” Zayn laughed, rising to kiss Liam again. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he said, grinning at Zayn's sarcasm clashing with the sweet way he kissed Liam. “So you like it?”

“I _love_ it.”

**  
**/////** **

 

He figured from all the greenery and healthy choices on the menu that The Treehouse Cafe that the food served might be vegetarian, but it was _Vegan._

Liam wasn't a food snob, but he'd never eaten a Vegan meal; he prided himself as being a lover of red meat. He was so caught up in getting something that Zayn would like, that he didn't stop to think of what he'd want to eat. The Hummus Supreme did not sound appealing to him.

“Liam there's a million sandwiches here.” Zayn tossed the sandwich on the plate after taking a bite, groaning at the taste and picking up another one and crawling on his knees to where Liam's was lying back on his elbows. 

“Here,” he said, throwing his knee over Liam's lap and settling himself on his hips, “try this one. It's got tempeh bacon. I think you'll like it.”

Liam scrunched his face, turning his head away. “What's tempeh bacon?”

“It's a vegan alternative for pork bacon.”

Zayn took a bite himself. Liam watched as some dressing escaped his mouth and made its way down his face before Zayn's tongue swiped out and licked it up. Liam's eyes darkened and Zayn exposed his neck, tossing his head back and laughing. 

“No sex stuff until after we eat. I haven't had Treehouse in forever.” He crawled off Liam and laid beside him, leaning back into his chest and taking another bite of the sandwich. “This is _so good,_ Liam.”

Liam plucked the sandwich from his hands, sinking his teeth into it and chewing as fast as possible to get it over with. It wasn't terrible, but Liam could distinctly tell this wasn't real bacon. The dressing was tangy, a bit weird but not inedible. He saw Zayn out of the corner of his eye, looking at him expectantly, begging for him to like it. He smiled and chewed off another bite, pleased when Zayn picked up another item for himself.

There was rhubarb pie that fulfilled Liam's appetite. Zayn got some pie filling on his shirt and when Liam laughed he dipped his finger into the middle of the pie and smeared it across Liam's face.

“Oh, you're gonna pay for that.”

Zayn cackled and rolled his eyes, lying back. “Empty threats, Payne.”

Liam wiped the pie from his face.

“I'll show you empty threats.”

When Liam reached for the sandwich he'd discarded earlier that had way too much vegan mayo for his liking, Zayn sprung up out of arm's reach. “If you get mayo on me, we're never having sex again.”

Liam ignored the warning and stuck his finger in between the bread, extending his arm out and catching Zayn. He reeled him in despite Zayn's struggle and cradled him in his one arm, sliding his finger down the plane of Zayn's nose. “We're only on our second date and you're withholding sex from me?” He wiped his hand off on the seat of his pants.

The look of surprise on Zayn's face was enough to spur him out of his spot before it disappeared and Zayn was out for revenge. He let Zayn fall back and stood up quickly, the sound of Zayn's squawks and his giggles filling the space they were in. But Liam wasn't fast enough and Zayn caught him by the belt loops of his pants. 

“You shit, come _here._ ” Zayn pulled him, using his weight to drag Liam to the ground again. 

Zayn pinned Liam to the blanket and fought to press his messy face against Liam's. Their hands joined as Zayn sat atop him and strained downwards. “Come here, Liam. 'S wrong, you don't want my face on yours?”

“Always, baby. Just wish it was different white stuff on your face.” He grinned smarmily up at Zayn, using all his strength to hold him at bay. Liam was glad his dad pushed him to be fit —physically as well as appearance wise— because Zayn's lithe frame was more difficult to fight off than he would have guessed. “But if you're holding out on me, I guess that'll have to wait, hm” he said, laughing at the offended expression on Zayn's face.

“You're _dead,_ Liam.” 

With a burst of strength that Liam wasn’t expecting, Zayn surged down and successfully nuzzled Liam's face with his own. Under normal circumstances he would swoon or something else positively ridiculous, but he felt and heard the wet squish of mayonnaise being transferred to his cheek he let out a squeal that he would forever deny if Zayn ever brought it up. 

“That's so _gross._ ”

Zayn was laughing at him, his mouth open wide, eyes closed with the sound traveling through the trees, with the wind carrying the melody of his amusement. 

He opened up his eyes and placed his hands on the blanket, near both sides on Liam's face. He was on all fours above Liam, one side of his mouth lifted up in delight at Liam's disgust. “Here, let me get that for you,” he chuckled. “ _Big baby._ ”

Liam was going to stretch for the napkins but Zayn had another idea. When Liam raised and twisted his torso to the side, Zayn pushed him down and chased his body with his own. He used his hand to turn Liam's head, exposing the side of his cheek with the mayo on it to himself. He didn't give Liam a chance to think before he leaned down and licked his face, his tongue tickling the small bristles in Liam's light beard. 

Liam groaned when he kept moving his tongue across his cheek, and then kissed down to his jaw, his neck next on Zayn’s list. He stared down at Liam and pressed their lips together. Liam opened his mouth and let Zayn in. He followed the sweet and tangy taste that burst onto his tongue.

The kiss was gentle, their lips moving slow and lazy, their hips and hands following suit. Liam pocketed his fingers in the back of Zayn's jeans and drew him in, slotting them together. Zayn let himself collapse to his elbows and it jolted their mouths a bit, but Liam liked it; the sudden roughness in accidental bites and the grinding of denim. 

“I thought you said _—shit—_ no sex,” he questioned. Zayn was making his way down to Liam's throat again, sucking and nibbling at the prominent vein in his neck. 

Zayn released his throat from between his teeth and crawled back up to meet Liam's eyes. “This isn't sex.” he smiled, displaying the top row of his teeth. “This is _kissing._ ”

“I stand corrected.”

“You _lay_ corrected.”

-

They laid there for what Liam felt like was ages, kissing and laughing, grinning and whispering; enjoying the moment. It was getting colder, the wind was blowing harder, but the shrubbery blocked a majority of it out. Still, Liam had Zayn beside him, tucked into his chest. His head was on Liam's bicep; they traded stories and pie until they ran out of food and tall tales. 

Liam could hear the crickets, loud and annoying; chirping. He could hear the air moving the swings and Zayn's breath in his ear. Zayn was playing with the zipper of Liam's hoodie, taking turns between fingering the jagged teeth and splaying his hand over Liam's stomach. He would trace patterns in the silence and drag the metal up and down quietly during one of Liam's monologues.

Liam was talking now, rambling on about something unimportant, and looking up at what little he could see of the night sky and the stars twinkling down. He could feel Zayn nodding at all the appropriate parts, leaning over to peck at his birthmark and smile into his neck when Liam said something he found cheesy or corny, which was more often than not. 

But Zayn had been still for some time. He was staring off into space, fiddling with the metal on Liam's jacket, not uttering a word. 

“You alright?”

Zayn's shoulders moved with a sigh, heavy and abnormal considering the romantic and happy atmosphere they were in.

“I hate you.”

That was certainly not what he was expecting. 

He fought the urge to sit up and demand answers. He wasn't sure —because as much time as they've spent together in the last few days, Liam didn't know Zayn as much as he would like to— but he didn’t think Zayn would respond positively if Liam pushed him too hard.

“I thought you liked it,” Liam asked. He tried to keep his voice level; steady and unbroken. 

Zayn smacked his lips. He looked frustrated at himself and it confused Liam. He was just really, really lost.

“I love it.”

“Then why do you hate me?”

“ _Because,_ ” he shouted, jumping at the sound of his own voice. He started a little quieter. “Because I'm- I'm _falling_ for you and I hate that. I _hate_ it.”

“Zayn-”

He steamrolled past Liam's interruption, sitting up in a criss-cross position, his eyes distant and his hands picking at stray leaves on the blanket. “I hate it so _much._ 'Cause it sucks and you were supposed to be some flashy guy I fucked on a stupid boat and you _had_ to ask to see me again. It was one night. I don’t know what I have to say to explain to you what a one-night stand _means,_ Liam.”

“I'm sor-”

“And now you're taking me to the park and getting me Treehouse sandwiches _three hours away_ and planning picnics.” Liam sat up beside him, smiling and cupping Zayn's face in his hands, elated that he wasn't the only one feeling like this; that he wasn't going into this by himself. Zayn was just as caught up in Liam as Liam was in Zayn. “You've known me for _six days._ People don't _do_ this.”

He searched for something —a flaw, maybe— in Liam's eyes.

“Where did you come from,” he muttered, breath warm on Liam's face. 

“Heaven, I think.”

“ _And you ruined it._ ”

Liam carefully tilted Zayn backwards onto the blanket, laying him down and concealing his exasperation with a deep kiss. 

He pulled away, pecking Zayn's nose that had gone red from the chill. “Also, we shagged on a yacht, not a boat. I'm not on a budget, Zayn.”

“And you ruined it _again._ ”

Zayn rolled his eyes, but yanked at the fabric on Liam's sweatshirt and brought them closer, a mess of clashing teeth and muffled moans. Zayn was more feisty than normal, his mouth attacking Liam's and his hands traveling south and gripping Liam's ass then curling in the back of his jacket when Liam's scruff drug across his collarbone while Liam sucked at his neck. 

Liam wanted more. He wanted to strip Zayn bare, take him here, in this bubble they had created just for themselves. He wanted to watch the light play over Zayn's sharp features as he was coming, face contorted in pleasure and lips breathing out Liam's name. He wanted it bad, enough that he could feel his dick swell at Zayn's hip at the thought, but this wasn't the place. This wasn't the time.

He and Zayn had already had sex. It wasn't some big obstacle that they had to work towards. Liam had never had to work for sex, it never meant anything to him besides danger and thrill and desire. But he wanted something different; he's always sought that out. Uniqueness. He wanted something real, something tangible that he would have to show for his actions and emotions.

He didn't want what his parents had before his mother left, or what Louis' parents had, or what he knew from afar what Mr. Styles and Anne had. He knew those were relationships built on a name, a platform of wealth and fame that wouldn't bring them enjoyment outside of fancy dinner parties and expensive cars. Liam wanted _this._

He wanted Zayn with his tattoos and mysterious background and a tacky amount of leather jackets. His heart pulled for that smile and that laugh that knocked his breath out of his lungs. He yearned to know what Zayn would look like after their third date, their fourth and every one after that. He wanted a stupid cliché high school relationship with a stoner that he knew would eventually land him flat on his ass with his heart on his sleeve and his head in his hands; but it's what he wanted. 

And fucking Zayn in a park wasn't anything special. It was cheap and hasty and fleeting; things he didn't want them to be.

So he would wait. He would wait until the fourth date, possibly the fifth or sixth. Maybe when they were hanging around Harry's house by themselves or when normal couples _—or whatever they were—_ considered themselves to be ready to take that step. He would build something that he was sure would last.

It would drive him nuts, even more so because he's already _had_ Zayn. He's already been inside him and licked at his flesh and tasted him and kissed at his bellybutton. It would be hell for Liam, but it would be worth it.

“What are you thinking about?”

Liam lifted one side of his mouth, then the other when he saw Zayn smiling back at him, grass in his hair and his lips shiny and red, standing out against his skin. 

He dipped down to suck a kiss under Zayn's ear, in the spot he knew would make him mewl, panting Liam's name; making the both of them laugh at their situation.

“I think maybe I'm falling for you, too.”

**  
**/////** **

 

 

 

Liam starts staying over at Harry's enough to keep a few pairs of jeans and a jumper or two in the hall closet. He drives there after school with Louis' in the passenger seat, his best friend groaning about how much he doesn't want to be here and how Harry's come-ons are starting to get old. But he gets out of the car just the same and he chooses to sit squished in between Harry and Niall as they all watch movies or smoke weed together; and he protests when Liam says they should be getting home, saying that it's rude to leave when the movie isn't over, although he's seen Batman Begins seven times and hates it more and more each time. They usually wait for Zayn and Niall to skate up after class with Harry walking behind them. Liam thinks he would like to walk with them just once, but Louis refuses to be left out of anything and he also refutes the idea of walking anywhere when he has a more than adequate car. 

Whenever Geoff  is gone and Liam is sure he hasn't sent Karen to check on the house, he sneaks Zayn in through the back. Zayn pushes Liam to give in, saying he's a legal adult and that hand jobs in the backseat and blowjobs in the shower aren't going to cut it for three more weeks, which is how long it's been since Liam decided he wanted to wait.

Zayn rolls his eyes at him and calls him a sap, but Liam thinks he secretly likes it, is interested in where Liam wants to take whatever they have.

Liam contacts everyone he knows, asking about secret spots or places that he could take Zayn and not be hounded by people with cameras asking questions about his father or his future in the industry or his illustrious boyfriend  _Louis Tomlinson._  

He found a ledge that someone had thrown a party at once, and then an abandoned bridge that he and Zayn perched on and watched the sun rise, with their hands clasped tightly together and their breath catching at the view. 

Zayn's places were decidedly better and a quite a bit less cliché. 

He dragged Liam to a hole-in-the-wall that served the best curry Liam had ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. It was in a part of town Liam had never heard of before, and it was amazing. The people were friendly, not minding if he and Zayn stopped them to ask for directions after a trek around the neighborhood or a jog and skate through a run down park. 

Zayn said it was by pure coincidence that they stumbled upon a poetry bar, but his familiarity with the staff and table set up told Liam that was all bollocks. They sat in the back, hands not wound together, but close and intimate. They closed their eyes and listened —Zayn did first and Liam followed suit— and they soaked up the words of love and loss and heartbreak, coming from the mouths of women and men alike, voices lined with feeling and emotion.

Liam wasn't attending balls or rubbing elbows with older gentlemen that could solidify his future in business. He was drinking in pubs and sharing shots with strangers, Zayn at his side. He didn't find himself at the Tomlinson's dinner table during Karen's dinner with high society ladies and men in formal wear that was much too classy for six in the evening. He matched Louis puff for puff on whatever joint Niall was passing around Harry's coffee table, in a pair of Zayn's sweats and a t-shirt. 

For three weeks, he wasn't living the life that was set out for him and neither was Lou. They were living their own lives, having their own experiences, not caring what any of their old friends would think, what they would say. 

Liam couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more alive.

**  
**/////** **

 

 

At first he's too happy for Lou to be worried.

He hides his smile in Zayn's shoulder when Louis goes outside to warm up the car before they leave, grabbing one of Harry's beanies from beside the kitchen table and shoving his head in it, not taking it off when he comes back, or even when they leave that night. 

He doesn't say a word when he's sorting through their laundry and a crumpled concert ticket falls out of Louis' pants pocket. He recognizes it as a band that Harry had mentioned in passing, something about how they were in town and he was planning on going to see if they were any good live. He also doesn't say anything when he goes to school the next day and Harry's in the cafe gushing about his night, raving about the band and trying unsuccessfully to hide a love bite with a pop of his collar. He doesn't say anything when Louis blushes profusely all during lunch either.

He still doesn't worry when Louis doesn't come home one night or when he phones Zayn to find out Harry hasn't either. Lou is a grown man; he knows how to make his own decisions. And if he's with Harry, it gives him less time to be a grumpy and sexually frustrated mess around Liam.

However, he does start to get concerned when Louis catches up with him at school the next morning. He walks up to him, Zayn and Niall like it’s a regular occurrence, him disappearing with Harry and not telling anyone where they've went. Louis pushes Niall playfully and pats Zayn's quiff. He stands on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to Liam's cheek. He smiles brightly when the first warning bell of the morning rings and he loops his arm through Liam's and drags him down the hall. 

And then Liam sees the tattoo.

“What the hell is that?!”

Louis glances up at Liam and then down to where his gaze has landed. “What does it look like, Liam? It's _obviously_ a tattoo.” And then he carries on down the hall, unwinding his arm from Liam's and walking to his first class, leaving a very confused Liam, Niall and Zayn in his wake.

Harry breezed by, calling out for Louis', nodding at the three of them and passing on by. When he caught up to Lou, he slung a bandaged forearm over his shoulders, and much to Liam's surprise, Louis let it stay there.

“Zayn?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Should I be worried?”

Niall slapped him on the back a few times before skating down the hall, yelling back at them. “Ya probably should, mate! Ya _really_ should.”

Liam groaned and let his head drop to Zayn's shoulder, annoyed when Zayn laughed at him, but consoled when he wrapped his arms around Liam's back and kissed the side of his head. 

“Whose idea was it to get them together again?” He mumbled the words into Zayn's shirt.

“That's all on you, babe.”

Liam groaned again.

Zayn pushed him off with a snort. “Yeah, that's all on you.”

**  
**/////** **

 

“Harold, I know you’re _super_ attached to your new biffle, so can you make him scoot the hell down, so me and Liam can have a sit?”

Liam and Grimmy stood to the side with cups of soda in their hands, waiting for Harry and Louis to sqeeze together on the bench a tad more so they could both be seated.

Nick and Louis were tagging along with Liam and Harry to see Zayn and Niall skate. There was a large group of guys around their age waiting around with them. A sponsor was scouting the park, a video camera in hand. His assistant lined all the boys up and let them skate three at a time around the bowl. (Liam wasn’t sure what one would call the surfaces they skated on, but it looked like an empty swimming pool to him, so he settled for calling it a bowl.)

They were three towns over and Liam and Louis didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them out and about and stopping to snap their picture. The park was expansive and there were plenty of spectators gathered around outside the gates the sponsors had set up. The wiry assistant —young with a thick pair of glasses on and black ink marking up his neck— didn’t want to let them inside the perimeter, but Grimmy had persuaded him other wise with the flashing of a few bills and a baggie of weed he was guilty of sneaking from Niall’s bag earlier.

“It pays to be rich,” he giggled, leading them past a group of angry supportive girlfriends and best mates, finding themselves a bench to sit down on.

Except there wasn’t enough room with Harry and Louis pretending for everyone else’s benefit that they weren’t head over arse for each other and taking up the entire width of the bench.

“What the fuck is a _biffle,_ ” Louis snapped, sliding across the metal and closer to Harry, leaving just enough room for Grimmy’s slim hips and Liam’s bum.

“ _BFFL,_ ” Liam answered. “It means best friends for life.” Nick hissed when the bare part of his legs touched the hot seat. Liam snickered; that’s what he got for trying to be a pain and showing off his thighs in shorts that were insanely short, even for Grimmy.

Louis rolled his eyes and inched even closer to Harry when Grimmy made room for himself by crossing his long legs in front of him. Liam was surprised he didn’t have a clever retort, but he figured it was for the best. He didn’t come here to trade banter with Louis, he came here to see Zayn skate for a sponsor.

He sipped at his soda as Grimmy talked next to him, scoping out guys and girls alike in the line, discussing something Liam wasn’t really paying attention to. He spotted Zayn and Niall, sitting on the ground near the middle of the line. Niall nudged his shoulder and Zayn looked up at him. Zayn waved at him shyly, with the sunshine bouncing off of his face.

Liam waved back and blew a kiss in his direction. Zayn ducked his head into his hands and Niall’s laughter carried across the distance between them.

Liam and Zayn had never been out together in the daylight, sans for school. Zayn would say things were more fun at night anyway and Liam would say there was nothing exciting about the daylight, but he knew they were both lying. Liam knew _he_ couldn’t take Zayn around town during daytime hours because he didn’t want to get caught and be hounded by his father. And he figured Zayn had his own reasons as well; but Liam didn’t plan on sharing, nor did he plan on asking.

Today was different.

Today they were away from town and no one knew them and they enjoyed walking up to the park hand in hand, kissing and smiling, giggling at how Harry chased after Louis and rolling their eyes at Grimmy smoking in the backseat with Niall.

Zayn hadn’t been nervous, he had no reason to be; Liam knew he was fantastic. But as Grimmy and Liam talked amongst themselves, they both noticed the steady climbing of worry in Zayn and Niall’s faces as more and more people skated, doing impressive tricks.

“Should we go say something to them,” Liam asked when Zayn had turned away from him for the fourth time, not wanting to look at him mouthing words of encouragement.

Grimmy nodded, turning to ask Louis and Harry if they wanted to go. Liam looked across Grimmy at the pair. Their heads were bent together and Louis was talking low in Harry’s ear while Harry traced the quotation marks printed on Louis’ wrist.

Nick shook his head. “ _Nope,_ not interrupting that.”

“Me either, let’s go.”

They got up and set their drinks down on the ground, placating Louis and Harry with a _‘be right back’,_ even though they barely looked up at their absence.

Zayn and Niall still had quite a time to wait, with four groups in front of them. Grimmy held on to Liam’s elbow as they made their way past the a bulky security guard who was responsible for making sure no intruders got past and no fights broke out. Ian, the assistant from before cleared them with the wider man and let them go find the boys. Zayn was sitting on his skateboard with a fag hanging unlit in his mouth. Niall was laying down with his board over his stomach, tapping his feet to the beat of Zayn’s drumming fingers.

They tipped-toed behind them, Grimmy went for Niall and Liam for Zayn. Liam bent down and set his hands on Zayn’s shoulder, laughing when he jumped.

“Hey, you.”

Zayn whipped his head around, nearly colliding violently with Liam’s chin. “ _Liam?_ Shit, you scared me.” He looked on to where Harry and Louis were still sitting. “You were just there, I swear.”

Liam heard Niall squeak at Grimmy pinching one of his nipples through his shirt, the rest of the guys looking at them funny.

“You looked worried sick, just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He was on his knees behind Zayn with his hands wrapped around his middle, messing with the selection of bracelets on his wrist. He nuzzled Zayn, smiling when he leaned back into his embrace. “You’re going to do great, Zayn.”

“Some of these guys are really good, Li.”

“My guy is better.”

Niall and Grimmy laughed beside them, as did some strangers. Zayn bowed his head forward and moaned at Liam. “You’re here for two minutes, Liam… _Two_ minutes.”

Liam rocked them backwards and forwards, feeling Zayn’s formerly tense muscles start to relax at his touch and movement. “I’m serious, Zayn. I’ve watched all these guys, and they don’t do half of the things you and Niall do. They’re no where _near_ as talented.”

He lifted his finger, pointing to Harry and Louis. “They believe in you, Grim believes in you; Niall does too.” Liam kissed at his hands, bringing them to his lips and pecking each knuckle. “ _I believe in you._ ”

Zayn hesitated before speaking. “We’re really better than them?”

“Loads, babe.”

Zayn nodded and sat there with Liam, content to let the sun burn their cheeks and shoulders. They wound their hands together and watched the competition, waiting for Zayn and Niall to get the chance to live out their dreams.

-

When only one group was before them Liam and Grimmy got up to leave. Liam left Zayn with a good luck kiss and a pinch on the ass. “You can do it,” he whispered, grabbing Nick and dragging him out of the sea of boys and girls.

“I might have to get m’self a _bad boy,_ Liam. Any recommendations?”

“Look for the softies,” he answered, laughing at the look on a stranger’s face when Grimmy openly ogled him. “Tough on the outside, mush on the inside.”

“That doesn’t sound any fun.”

“Trust me,” he assured him, “it is.”

-

“Are they _holding hands?_ ”

“You’ve got to stop smoking so much weed, Grim.”

“Liam, they’re holding hands.”

“No they’re n— oh _fuck._ ”

“We can’t just go over there. They’re baby animals, we’ll _spook_ them.”

“ _Are you taking a picture?_ Grimmy, _why_ are you taking a picture?”

“Evidence is _everything._ ”

“You’re mental, Gr—Hey look, they’re up!”

“Gross, Liam. Why are your hands sweaty? Don’t be nervous, I’ve known ‘em for ages. This is meant for lads like them. They’re going to _rock._ ”

And they did.

 

**/////**

 

 

They did fantastic. Liam wishes he could have caught every single detail Niall had done, or maybe all the ones that Zayn had performed, but his mind was lost in the grace and his heart was plummeting when Zayn would get enough air to propel him high into the sky, coming down hard and only letting Liam give a sigh of relief when he landed on his feet with his board secure beneath him.

There was another guy in the bowl with them, someone Liam didn’t know. And he felt bad for him, because while Liam was sure the boy was great, Zayn and Niall overshadowed him and he didn’t hold a candle to them.

When it was over and Liam could breathe easy because his boyf—his _Zayn_ wasn’t throwing himself into the air and trusting a piece of wood to bring him down safely. They papers they wore on their chest —the ones with their registration numbers and names printed on them— were given back to Ian and they ran over to Grimmy and Liam on the other side of the bowl. Harry and Louis had hollered and yelled when Zayn and Niall did impressive tricks, but Nick and Liam refused to go over there or give them any kind of acknowledgement as to what they’d seen before.

Zayn let his board fall to the ground when he reached Liam. Liam picked him up, hiding his smile in Zayn’s neck, spinning him around and stopping, not setting him down just yet. “That was awesome.”

Zayn nodded. “I know, huh?”

Liam laughed, readjusting Zayn in his arms, hoisting him up to wrap his hands around his thighs and wind them around Liam’s back. “Good to see you’ve still got that modesty thing working for you.”

“That’s wasn’t cocky,” he says. “My boyfriend believes in me, _remember?_ ”

Liam laughs before his mind catches on the word that just came out of Zayn’s mouth. _Boyfriend._ Is that what they were now, boyfriends? Could Liam say that out loud without feeling like a fool? He didn’t see why not, Zayn had just said it like it wasn’t a big deal, giggling and pinching at Liam’s face like he didn’t just give them an official label.

“I’m your boyfriend,” he asks, because he wants to be sure. He wants to know that this is concrete and Zayn isn’t playing with him just to see how he reacts.

Zayn shrugs nonchalantly in Liam’s arms and pushes his lips to the side, tapping his chin like he’s considering it. “Well we’ve been on a _billion_ dates—”

“Twelve.”

“And we hang out every day and I let you hold my hand at school. I have a reputation to protect, Liam, I don’t just do that for _anybody,_ ” he says, face very serious, but his mouth lifted into a grin nonetheless. “You get along with my best mates and you always have money for weed. Plus, I have to work to get you to put out, and if that doesn’t feel like a true relationship—”

“Shut _up,_ Zayn.”

He dropped him to his feet so their heights would be more evenly matched and grabbed his face with one of his hands, the other falling to the small of his back. He sealed their mouths together and dipped Zayn, sticking the romantic position through even when their friends laughed at them and called Liam a goofball.

He kissed Zayn until his arms began to get tired; Zayn holding onto Liam’s back, gripping tight and not letting go, kissing Liam out of pure exhilaration, scared he would fall if Liam lost his hold even a little.

He stood Zayn upright and beamed proudly at the catcalls of their friends. He fist-bumped Niall and congratulated him. Niall told him not to celebrate yet, that the sponsors were traveling all over and they wouldn’t have official results until the beginning of summer. Harry shrugged him off and told him they would definitely make it.

They all crammed into two separate cars, Niall with Liam and Zayn and Grimmy with Harry and Louis. Grimmy took them out to eat on his tab, finding the nearest curry restaurant to feed his most recent obsession.

They’re all in a booth finishing the placement of their orders when Grimmy asks if he they want to hit the clubs with him.

“Here?” Louis asks. “I’m not dressed to go clubbing.”

“No, not here. Let’s go somewhere closer to home, somewhere _seedy_. I’d like to get wasted.”

Zayn talked around a mouth full of Liam’s chips. “Sounds fun, me and Liam are g’na sit this one out though. You guys go ahead.”

Liam snatched one of his chips from Zayn’s hands. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

Zayn nodded. “I do…”

Liam furrowed his brows and Zayn snuck his hand under the table, rubbing the crease of Liam’s jeans and dragging his palm over Liam’s co— _oh,_ that kind of celebrating.

Zayn leaned over to talk under the voices of their friends. “They’ll be out and we’ll have Harry’s flat to ourselves… I think it’s time.” He could feel Zayn’s smile near his jaw. “And if we just fool around one more time, I think I might _die_ from blue balls, Li.”

Liam thought he should fight Zayn on this, tell him no, maybe they should wait longer, so it could mean _something._ But Zayn had called him his boyfriend earlier, Zayn had solidified the definition of the both of them with one word, and that would be enough. They liked each other, they enjoyed each other’s company and Liam liked how Zayn made him feel, so why was he still waiting to do something they’ve already done before?

He’s not.

Additionally, he didn’t want Zayn to die. It was also important to mention that he was almost at his limit as well. Why did he ever think it was a smart idea to have someone who looked like Zayn all to himself and not reap the benefits?

“Ew, no dirty stuff in front of us. _Hands above the table, Zayn._ ”

He looked over too Louis and watched him playfully sneer at _Liam_ for public displays of affection when _he_ had Harry’s hand over the back of his neck, fingers playing with a chain he’s sure he’s seen on Harry before. Liam knew for sure that Louis had Harry’s beanie in his back pocket; he was wearing it before they came in because the wind was messing with his fringe. Liam wasn’t even going to get started on their displayed matching tattoos.

The hypocrite.

 “Sod off, Lou. You and your biffle going out tonight?”

Grimmy high-fived Liam and Harry laughed. Louis ducked out from under his arm, his expression sour.

“I hate you. _All_ of you.”

 

 

**/////**

 

 

Liam’s comment about Harry’s sheets a while back had been spot on, they were _phenomenal._ And Zayn’s dark skin against the unmade bed, covered in pale white silk, made Liam shudder and thank whoever was responsible for placing such a beautiful boy in his life.

The ride home had been painful. Zayn got Liam worked up, biting at a pen from Liam’s cup holder, wrapping his lips around the tip, humming to a song. The only sign he was aware of Liam’s discomfort was hidden in a smirk formed by his mouth.

When they finally got to Harry’s it was dark out, the street lamps providing them with enough light for Zayn to use his key and shove Liam through the doorway. Liam shed his hoodie and Zayn’s jacket and pants before they traveled past the foyer. He stumbled to the couch with Zayn’s mouth attached to his, but Zayn told him of Harry’s huge bed and his soft sheets and that rivaled the unpredictable cushions of the couch and the easily annoying leather.

Liam had been in this apartment more than a handful of times but he had yet to step into Harry’s room, and he’d love to take a look around, but he had a ready and willing boyfriend on his hands that couldn’t wait.

Liam didn’t think he would ever get enough of kissing Zayn. They moved sexy and slow, taking turns nipping and biting at one another, trying to illicit moans and sweet whispers in the dark. He used to hate the taste of smoke in Zayn’s mouth, only excited that it helped Zayn fit a type; the makings of a dangerous boy that Liam could get lost in. Now he revels in it, delves deep to find it and chase after it as Zayn groans into his mouth. It’s just him and Zayn, his tongue slipping past Zayn’s lips, turning him on and feeling him grow hard beneath him.

Zayn flips them and Liam doesn’t put up much of a struggle, he likes when Zayn gets aggressive. He likes for Zayn to feel control coursing through his veins, because Liam knows it won’t last long. He knows how much Zayn likes for Liam to be the one touching him, holding him and making him feel good.

Zayn clambers on top of Liam, the moon’s light coming through the window, lighting up the glint of determination in his eyes. He pulls off Liam’s pants, making quick work of Liam’s boxers and his own as well.

He kissed his way up Liam’s stomach, stopping to dip his tongue in Liam’s navel, licking and trailing wet sloppy smacks of his lips to Liam’s chest and lifting his shirt in the process, tapping Liam’s ribs twice to get him to sit up enough to pull his shirt off completely.

“So fucking fit,” he pants, untangling Liam’s limbs from his shirt and holding him steady for a kiss then pushing him back down again. His hands wander all over Liam, in every crevice, tickling him in some, making his chest rumble with a moan in others.

The weight of Zayn on top of him turned his stomach delightfully, making blood flow to his erection below Zayn’s bum. Zayn climbs off him and Liam’s confused before Zayn digs through Harry’s underwear drawer to find his stash of lube and condoms he had to hide from Niall. “Wanker steals all the supplies in the house. Never even seen him have sex, but me and Harry can’t keep condoms between the two of us.”

Liam tried not to let jealousy tug at him hearing about Zayn’s abundant use of condoms as he crawled back on top of him.

They don’t say much, opting for touches instead of words. Zayn rolls the rubber down Liam’s length. He sits up and scoots back to the headboard, seating Zayn in his lap and slathering his fingers with slick from the bottle. Zayn spreads his legs for Liam, letting Liam prepare one finger at a time, his hand rubbing his balls while he slides his digits into Zayn.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he groans, stretching Zayn around his fingers and hissing at the sting of Zayn’s sharp teeth at this shoulder. “Are you good, babe? You ready?”

Zayn nods and crawls back, leaving Liam with enough space to lie back again. Liam swipes Zayn’s shirt from the bed and wipes off his hand and then draws his attention to his dick, where Zayn is exhaling a breath while Liam’s dick pushes at the ring of muscle. He steadies Zayn, gripping his hips as he lowers himself. Zayn’s mouth falls open in shock at the sensation and his eyes widen, but he bottoms out and licks his lips, spinning his hips experimentally and Liam lets go.

He smiles down at Liam and swivels his hips, making him jerk and groan out Zayn’s name.

He’s hot and tight around Liam and he can tell in the flickers of pain in Zayn’s face that there’s a bit of a pinch from this angle, but eventually it wears away and Zayn’s moving himself on top of Liam, rising and falling; teasing Liam for all he’s worth.

He presses his palms to Liam’s chest to use him as leverage. Zayn leans forward, ghosting his breath over Liam’s face and only allowing the head of Liam’s cock to stay in him before rocking backwards quickly and repeating the movements.

Liam wants to flip him over and thrust into him to his own rhythm, he’s overly worked up at the fast then slow pace of Zayn’s hips. But Zayn holds him down and squeezes him, making his toes curl and his body feel lax.

“You wanted me to do all the work,” Zayn says, folding himself in half to kiss Liam’s lips, unwilling to let him deepen it or get the upper hand. “You wanted me to _ride you,_ Liam.” He bounces—fucking _bounces_ —and his words are drowned out by the yells and groans falling out of Liam’s mouth.

“But sit up a bit, yeah?”

 Liam holds on to Zayn as he straightens his back and slides them up the bed, leaning on the headboard. The angle is better in this position and Liam knows if Zayn keeps pumping himself torturously slow on Liam’s dick, that he won’t last for much longer.

“Thanks, love.”

Liam watches a bead of sweat fall down Zayn’s forehead and get lost in the swirls of a tattoo on his chest. Zayn kisses Liam, urgent and sloppy. Liam winds his hands around Zayn’s back, bucking his hips up and touching Zayn’s entrance where he can feel himself sliding in and out of Zayn. It was heady and Liam had to close his eyes and just _feel_ for a moment, because the sight was almost too much.

He felt Zayn’s forearms by his head, his hands gripping the headboard and lifting his weight up and down; splitting himself open and making Liam a mess of _fuckZaynshitdothatagain_.

Liam’s palms run through the sweat covering Zayn’s back as he fucks himself on Liam. He does his best to move himself upward, countering Zayn’s movements. Zayn holds his head still as his body moves, kissing Liam and hitching his breath when he grounds himself down into that spot that will be responsible for driving him over the edge.

“Liam, Liam _—fuck—_ Liam, ‘m g’na—Liam. _Please._ ”

Zayn’s head’s thrown back, whining close to Liam’s face, panting and _begging_ for Liam to touch him. Liam wraps a hand around Zayn and jerks him, Zayn’s leaking head making it easy to slide his hand fast and unforgiving. “Got you, Zayn. _Got you._ ”

Liam could feel the knot in his stomach tightening, winding up at the pressure of Zayn around him. There’s a pull in Zayn’s muscles and he flexes around Liam’s cock. Liam can feel it ripple through him as Zayn’s come spurts out between them, and he relaxes into Liam, his head falling to his shoulder, pressing kisses and mumbling his name. Liam holds his back and rams up hard; once, twice, three times and a fourth before he’s coming into the condom.

He lays Zayn back, nuzzling him into the covers and slipping off the bed to discard the condom. He picks up a shirt off the bed and wipes Zayn’s come from his own stomach and then his boyfriend’s.

He _really_ liked saying that word.

He crashed next to Zayn and pulled him close. “Can we do that every day?”

“You’re the one that banned sex.”

“I didn’t _ban_ it,” he denied. “I just didn’t want to… you know.”

Zayn smiled fondly at him, smoothing his hand over Liam’s cheek and pecking him on the nose. “I know, Liam. I’m only playing.” He poked Liam’s ribs and rolled them out of bed in search of their boxers. He threw a pair at Liam and slid one over his bum before straightening the sheets and dragging Liam by the hand into the living room.

“As much as I hate this couch, I don’t want to share a bed with you and Harry in the morning, yeah?”

Liam agrees and walks around in a sex induced stupor trying to find a blanket to spread out over the leather and a duvet to crawl under. He finds a few in the hall closet while Zayn goes to clean up Harry’s room. He’s settled flat on his back when Zayn returns.

Liam’s body barely fits and he had to punch the throw pillows under his head a few times to get comfortable. Very carefully, Zayn lies on top of him, his arms folding between them and his skull pillowing on Liam’s chest. He slots a leg through Liam’s and they fall into a peaceful silence.

Zayn shivers and Liam pulls the duvet off the floor and blankets them. He runs his hands up and down the expanse of Zayn’s back. They probably smell rank and are in serious need of a shower, but Liam’s content to stay right here with Zayn’s lithe frame covering his for the rest of the night and the majority of the next morning.

He feels Zayn’s breath even out under his hands and he kisses his hair. He smiles and closes his eyes, whispering to him.

“Goodnight, Zayn.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbles back. “And don’t think I didn’t see you wipe up the come with my shirt again. That’s _two_ times, Liam.”

He laughs and folds his arms around Zayn’s shoulders. “ _Goodnight,_ boyfriend.”

The satisfaction he gets from saying the word is completely worth the pinch to his stomach and the hard bite to his collar bone.

Completely.

 

**/////**

 

 

Liam’s slept on the couch with Zayn numerous times. As much as he likes his own bed, he doesn’t want his had to surprise him and come home early to find Zayn in his room, assuming he’s cheating on Louis and forcing him to expose all of his lies. So he’s expecting a weight on his chest when he wakes up. Zayn isn’t heavy, so he doesn’t mind. But he wakes to a tickle on his nose and the sound of someone romping around the house.

He opens his eyes to find a head of hair by his face that doesn’t belong to Zayn. At first he’s spooked, but he looks down and sees Zayn still fast asleep, his head down far enough not to bother Liam. He looks to his left and finds Grimmy passed out beside the couch, sitting up on Liam’s end with his large quiff falling back into his nose. He sighs and turns his head to the other side and tries to fall back asleep.

Then someone steps out of Harry’s room.

Liam will chide himself later for not noticing right away, originally closing his eyes and feeling a bit betrayed on his best mate’s behalf. But he knows how Louis can be and he won’t hold it against Harry. All he sees is the person’s back, scratched to hell and his hips imprinted with bruises he knows will match Harry’s rather large hands and fingers. He’s turning the knob quietly, trying not to make the bedroom door click. It registers to Liam that he’s sneaking out, and he figures if the lad’s one-night stand wants to go before Harry wakes up, that’s not his business to interfere with.

He plans on kissing Zayn’s forehead and drifting back to sleep when he sees it: the way the person walks, bouncy with their hips jutting out with each step, the tussled but still overly styled hair, the tan skin and finally the tattoo on his wrist.

He sits up fast, jostling Zayn from his slumber and making the couch creak under his shifting weight.

_“Louis?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment/review/nothing/whatever floats your boat, really!  
> But it'd be cool if you told me what you think! :D


	5. I'm Lookin' Right At The Other Half Of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this chapter might be horrible, or you might love it. Who knows, really? Anyhow, I hope you do like it. Have a great read, lovelies. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated. xx

“Louis?”

Louis mutters out expletives under his breath and Liam sits up a little straighter, careful not to let Zayn fall off his chest. Liam watched as his best friend gathered the articles of clothing lying on the floor where they had fallen in his jump of surprise. He was flushed and he refused to look back in Liam’s direction, not that Liam minded because he wasn’t exactly sure what words were supposed to come out of his mouth if Louis _were_ to make eye contact.

As it turns out, his mind and mouth take control of the situation when Louis makes it clear that he has no intention of answering Liam’s call and he breezes past the couch and heads toward the foyer.

“Louis, hold the hell on,” he says, trying to keep his voice down. Zayn was already starting to wake from the jostle of Liam’s body and Grimmy would wake at the drop of a hat. Liam didn’t want this to turn into a spectator sport this early in the morning.

He lifts Zayn in his arms and winces at the couch creaking underneath him, but he smiles as Zayn’s hands reach out for him when he leaves him on the couch.

“Stay,” Zayn mumbles, his eyes squeezing shut at the sunlight peaking through the curtains in the room.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, laying a kiss on his forehead and silently making his way to the door where he can hear Louis fumbling with the locks.

His feet hit the cold flooring and he hisses at the contact. Louis just barely gets the locks slid open when Liam catches him at the door. He’s still set on ignoring Liam as he shuts the door in his face and doesn’t say a word when Liam gets outside and snatches his elbow before he can pour himself into the cab waiting by the curb.

“Louis, stop for a second, will you?”

Louis wretches his arm from Liam’s grip and walks forward, angrily spinning around when he hears Liam follow after him. “It’s not what it looks like, Liam,” he pleads, his eyes daring Liam to say something but begging him not to at the same time, the only communication between them the shine in Louis’ eyes and the raise in Liam’s eyebrows.

“I’m not mad, Lou. I’m happy you and Harry are,” he waves his hands around, not sure what to call what Louis and Harry have going on, but he knows it’s something because Louis doesn’t sleep over after sex or go to rock concerts and wear stupid ugly beanies that mess up his fringe.

He starts over. “I’m happy you two are whatever you are.”

“We aren’t anything,” Louis spits, squinting at Liam and curling his lip at the implication. “We had sex, we’ve _have_ sex. This is nothing new. I just fell asleep this time because I’m stupid. But I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, so I’m leaving.”

Liam lets his brain catch up with the new information and tries not to let himself hurt over the ever present fact that Louis wasn’t telling him things as of late, and this was just something to add to the list.

“And when were you gonna tell me you were sleeping with him?”

Louis folds his arms over his chest and Liam’s eyes are drawn to the fading mark hidden low on his neck when his arms pull down the fabric of his shirt, moving the collar to reiterate the secrets Louis had been keeping.

“You know you and I aren’t actually dating, right? I don’t have to tell you about every person I fuck. It never worked that way before.”

The words come out cruel but Liam knows he doesn’t mean them. Because this is what Louis does, he lashes out and plays the victim before anyone gets the chance to attack. He pretends to be an asshole, and plays it up a bit, pushing things and people away. Because somewhere along the way his no-good parents convinced him that he was only a pretty face and not much else. And damn them, Liam thinks. Damn everyone who put Louis down before Liam was able to get his own shit together all those years ago and notice Louis was falling apart.

So he doesn’t react negatively, at least not in the way Louis wants him to. Liam doesn’t want to pick a fight with Louis, he wants to understand him and help him see this thing with Harry through. And he really just wants to go back inside and cuddle with his boyfriend, because he has one now, and to Liam, that’s the best thing ever.

“Piss off. You know that’s not why I’m asking. I’m your friend, you tit. I want to kno—“

The door to the house opens and Louis’ body goes rigid and then relaxes when they both turn to see that it’s only Zayn. Liam smiles and beckons him out farther, loving the way he looks with Liam’s hoodie thrown over his shoulders and his legs peaking out of tight boxer briefs, long and skinny and so, so beautiful.

“What’s going on,” he asks, his shivering arms seeking out Liam and wrapping himself around him when he’s in the proper distance. “What are you doing here, Louis? Why is there a cab on the curb?”

Louis opens and closes his mouth. Liam knows he’s trying to form an excuse together that’s not going according to plan. Liam thinks maybe because he knows his excuses are shit.

“I’m just leavi—“

“Did you stay the night with Harry?”

Louis shakes his head at first, but Zayn is smart enough by now to decipher Louis’ lies and Louis knows that, so he corrects himself. “Yeah, I did. But I’m jus—“

“And now you’re sneaking out.” Zayn surprises the both of them with the tone of his voice, it’s sharp like the words are meant to cut, to extract the truth or scare Louis into telling it. And if it wasn’t directed at his best mate, Liam would have definitely been turned on.

“Would you quit interrupting me?” Louis stomps his foot into the ground and leans over to pick up a sock that had fallen with his movement.

“Would you answer the question,” Zayn snaps, his hands falling from around Liam and taking a defensive stance in front of him, looking ready to start up an argument in defense of his friend.

Liam places his hand on Zayn’s stomach, holding him in place when Louis’ smart mouth pops off something that Zayn doesn’t want to hear and he tries to step forward. “Guys, quit.”

But they aren’t listening and Liam really doesn’t want to be the one on the middle of this, because there isn’t a particularly right side and he doesn’t think he _could_ pick a side if the choice was presented in front of him; which will be soon if Louis and Zayn continue any further.

“He’s good enough to fuck, but you can’t hang around for a cuppa tea? It’s been a month, Louis. A month of you dragging him around and shit. Its one morning; you can’t give him that?”

A month?

Louis doesn’t give Liam time to process that, when he yells this time, frustrated that the cabbie called out the window and Louis had to tell him to keep the meter running because he was _definitely_ leaving, which only spurred Zayn’s anger even more.

“Don’t act like you’ve never heard of friends with benefits, Zayn. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

Louis’ words curl around Liam’s brain, rattling and trying to make something out of them, because there’s not only venom in them, but there’s a rise on his voice that tells Liam that Louis knows something about Zayn that he’s not privy to. He doesn’t want to be kept in the dark, he doesn’t. But Zayn’s already mad enough; the sleepiness is gone and his eyes are hard and his fists are clenched, so he’ll wait. He decided a long time ago that Zayn was worth waiting around for.

“Just fucking leave, Louis. Make up some shit story to tell him and go home.”

“You’ll tell him it’s a lie.”

Zayn shakes his head and reaches his hand up to mess with the cool loop of metal that was his earring, a habit he’s learned to mean Zayn was either tired or annoyed, and Liam figured he was probably a little of both right now.

“I won’t tell him anything because I’m not breaking his heart for you. You w’na do that, mate, do it your own fucking self.” He tugs at Liam’s hand to take him back inside once Louis nods and makes his way to the cab.

Liam stops himself with one look at Louis; the sag in his shoulders, the debauchery of his clothes and the sadness that he was failing to hide. He can’t let Louis be by himself today, not with his confrontation and the mental breakdown Liam knew was coming when he beat himself up over spending the night with Harry. He wants to spend time with Zayn. He wants to lie around and watch movies and hold his hand and tell him how special he thinks he is, but Liam doesn’t get to pick and choose when the right times are to be a good friend or not. He slips his hand out of Zayn’s and runs to the cab driver’s door, slipping out his wallet and forking over enough to pay for his time, clapping on the top and sending him on his way.

Louis looks lost and broken and _mad_ but Liam will make it up to him.

He runs up to Zayn and walks him back inside, yelling over his shoulder to Louis that he’ll be right back.

The first words that come out of Zayn’s mouth are: “He’s not staying here. I don’t want him to upset Harry.”

Liam loves how much Zayn cares for his best friend, even if it makes him dislike Liam’s. He smiles down at him and enjoys the view of his boyfriend wrapped up on his clothing on a Sunday morning, and _God_ he wishes he could stay here, but he can’t.

“I’m taking him home, babe.” He kisses the pout off of Zayn’s lips and holds his hips in his hands and fails to stop himself from stroking the skin that holds tattoos he knows nothing about; a part of Zayn he’s saving for another time. “I’ve got to go be a good friend.”

Zayn groans and lets his head fall to Liam’s shoulder. “Why do you have to be such a good guy?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, unsure of how to answer that.

Zayn’s hair tickles his throat and Liam squeezes him tight while he still has the chance.

“Don’t be sorry, just go.” His hands make their way up Liam’s shoulders and wind themselves around his neck. “What awful thing did I do to get such a fucking saint?”

He’s smiling at him, and Liam has to remind himself to breathe, because Zayn is dazzling and charming and the fact that he thinks _he’s_ the one that got lucky makes Liam appreciate him more.

He wants to say something quirky, something that will make Zayn roll his eyes and lift up to press his lips to Liam’s. But that will put them in motion and Liam doesn’t think he could start and then stop right now, not today; not after last night.

“We’ll have to look into that when I get back tonight,” he answers, pecking Zayn lightly and walking them towards the coffee table so he can grab his keys and try to make it out the door before Louis takes it upon himself to call another cab. “But right now, I have to go.”

Zayn raises his hands in defense. “Okay, okay.” He walks Liam back and pushes him out the door, swatting his ass and pulling Liam into a kiss he knows isn’t fair. “See you later?”

Liam nods and walks backwards, not wanting to take his eyes off of Zayn. “Later.”

“Turn around before you fall on your ass.”

“I think I’ll survive,” he winks. “I fell for you, didn’t I?”

Zayn thumps his head on the door frame, moaning insufferably and rolling his eyes at Liam. “Why did I ever agree to have sex with you? Seriously,” he hisses, “how did you pull me with lines like that? Go home, Liam.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, baby.”

_“Liam!”_

He chuckles and unlocks his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. He looks at Zayn while Louis put his things in the back seat. He blows him a kiss when Louis opens the passenger side door and drives off with Zayn’s middle finger sticking up in his rearview mirror, with a grin on his face.

Liam turns the corner and Zayn’s out of sight. Louis is still quiet and Liam isn’t going to prod at him until they get to the house and Louis can’t escape him by turning the music up or threatening to jump out of the car, things that Liam’s witnessed him attempt to do several times before.

“Wanna watch Gossip Girl when we get home,” he says instead, hoping it will spark something in Louis other than sadness and silent rage.

“You’re such a kiss ass.”

Liam doesn’t reply; he knows what’s coming next.

Louis has terrible restraint issues and Liam is aware of that.

“But yes.”

Hook, line and sinker.

 

**/////**

 

Liam is a really good friend. He should be rewarded for his services and diligent duties in the best friend department because his best friend is a pain in the ass.

He opts for a shower before doing anything else. He knows he has to smell awful from the night before, not to mention the full afternoon of sun he got, that made sweat trail down his back and heat trap uncomfortably in his jeans. He doesn’t take long and when he climbs out Louis is in the same place Liam left him; on the bed with his face smashed into the pillows.

Liam bites the bullet and goes to find the box set of DVD’s Louis has stashed in his mess of a closet. When he finds it he turns on the television and sets the disc in the tray. He cringes at the previews for series that are similar to Gossip Girl and tries hard not to roll his eyes when he’s met with a scantily clad Blake Lively on the menu screen. He pushes play.

He makes his way to the bed and pulls Louis up by his armpits until he’s settled into Liam’s lap, the position friendly and familiar, reminding Liam of when they were younger and Louis had been bigger than him. He used to be the one to cocoon Liam in when things got to be too difficult for either of them to handle.

They sit there for hours on end. Louis occasionally shifts and when he does he slips down farther into Liam’s lap until he’s laying in the vee of Liam’s legs with his head pillowed on his thigh with Liam’s hands running through his greasy, unwashed hair. He’s missed this. He’s missed this much more than he’d be willing to admit. Admitting it would mean he would also have to admit to being a bad friend and he wasn’t looking forward to that.

He tried to make up for it with this marathon and he knew it wasn’t fair for him to assume that he could get the best of Louis by using his favorite drama as a weakness. Even still, when the final credits for the first episode rolled, and then the second and finally the third and Louis hadn’t opened his mouth once except to discuss his critique on the outfits of the entire cast and swoon over the crafty and clever ways of one Chuck Bass.

“I want a Chuck Bass, Liam,” he’d said into Liam’s leg.

“You are Chuck Bass, you rich, cocky sod.”

“I do have the cheekbones.”

But that was it. That was the extent of his conversation with Louis. When the DVD looped back to the title menu, Louis made no move to get up and neither did he. It was dark outside, the sunshine peeking in from the curtains gone and replaced with a blanket of shadows that put an eerie sort of quiet over the room.

It could be his bravery or his boredom that makes him ask Louis the question he really wants an answer to. “Are we going to talk about what happened today? Or what’s been happening?”

Louis doesn’t miss a beat and Liam doesn’t expect him to. “Nothing happened today, or any other time.”

He flicks at Louis’ ear and shoves his shoulder carefully. “That was not nothing. You slept together. You’ve _been_ sleeping together.”

Louis shrugs, still intent not to get up. “So? May I remind you that Harold and I had sex in the same bed you fucked Zayn. All I could smell was your blasted cologne on Harry’s sheets, it was awful.”

“Awful enough to stay the night?”

He knows it’s a low blow, but he’s not sorry for making it, because most of the time you have to strike at Louis first if you want him to tell you how he’s really feeling about things beneath the surface.

He’s not surprised when Louis sits up quickly and glares at him. “You’ve stuck around plenty of times with Zayn and it doesn’t mean anything. Fuck off.”

And that puts more emphasis on their strained situation, exposing the fact that Louis has been busy and so has Liam. They don’t keep things from one another but these days they’re mostly spread too thin to be anything but.

“So what if I spend the night with Zayn? It means something to us. We’re dating.”

Louis chuffs at Liam and he’d much rather Louis do something with more flair, like swing his hands in the air and exaggerate his point. That way Liam can feel better about himself and say at least _he_ doesn’t behave like a child. But Lou’s eyes just roll and he and manages to annoy Liam with his condescending attitude.

“You don’t date,” he insists, letting the words spew out of his mouth, because that’s what Louis does. This is the Louis he knows. “I don’t date. _We_ don’t date, Liam.”

“I do now.” He shrugs as he says it, seeing as it’s not nearly as big of a deal as Louis is making it out to be.

“It’s not that simple!” This is also a Louis he’s familiar with, the one who doesn’t know how to control his feelings or the level of his voice. “It’s not that simple,” he repeats, quieter this time, but no less adamant.

Liam picks at a string coming from his cotton trousers and looks up at Louis. “It is if you want it to be.”

His arms cross and his eyes squint. “What makes him so special? You fuck and duck, right? Why does he get to be different?”

The question catches Liam off guard and at first he’s neither aware how to answer or sure if he wants to. It’s not that Liam can’t name reasons why Zayn is different. He can come up with a list on the spot if need be, but he knows Louis is working another angle, and he doesn’t like it.

Louis hasn’t been interested in any of Liam’s flings for a very long time. He doesn’t ask questions and Liam returns the favor. Louis doesn’t want to know why Liam thinks Zayn is so special. He wants to know why _Harry_ is so special to _him_ and that’s not an answer Liam can give.

He can’t answer questions about someone else’s feelings. He can predict where Louis’ thoughts take him a good majority of the time, but not about something like this. Liam can tell Louis what _he_ sees in Harry but that’s about it. He has no clue what things Louis has worked out in that brain of his.

How will he know if Louis sees the same dimples and piercings and tattoos or if he sees how Harry laughs when he’s around his friends? Or how he wiggles his butt in the kitchen when he’s cooking a meal for all of them? Or how wide his smile is whenever Louis doesn’t shove him away or push his hands to the side? How is Liam supposed to know if Louis has picked up on every hint that Harry has dropped?

One thing is certain, if Liam can see all of those things with Zayn in the same room, and Louis can’t, the lad’s gone blind or mad.

“He’s just different than I expected, I guess. I like him a lot,” he says, answering in the only way he can. And he isn’t lying; there isn’t an untrue word that leaves his mouth. He likes Zayn more than any other bloke he’s been with.

“I can’t count on both hands how many guys exactly like him you’ve gone through in the past two years alone.”

He’s still not talking about Zayn and Liam.

“You don’t know him like I do, mate. He’s a good guy.”

“Still doesn’t answer the question,” Louis pouts.  “What makes him so important?”

Another one for Harry.

“He just is.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Drop it, Lou.”

“Give me an answer.”

He’s still searching and he’s not pulling back.

Liam decides he’s had enough of this for one day. If Louis wants to taunt and torture him for answers to a crisis that isn’t his own, then he’d much rather go back to his boyfriend and enjoy the last couple hours of the night. If he wanted to run himself ragged because Harry had managed to dig underneath his skin and he was unsure of how to get him out, well then Liam was going to leave him be. “If you’re going to be an ass about this, I’m leaving.”

“Just answer the question, Li.”

Liam gets up and searches for his keys. He picks them up and heads for the door when he finds them on the dresser.

“Bye, Lou.”

“What makes him so special?”

Liam thinks maybe that one is about him and Zayn.

“Stop being a cunt.”

He doesn’t owe Louis an explanation.

“What makes him any different than the others?”

He doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“See you at school, yeah?”

He needs to walk away from this before he and Louis get into it.

“Liam Payne, what makes him so _fucking_ special?”

And his resolve breaks.

“Because I think I could love him!” He shouts back, turning towards him. He looks at Louis, confused and broken on his bed, looking at Liam to solve everything for him. He’s searching for things in Liam’s eyes that Liam doesn’t want him finding. “I think I could love him, okay? Fuck, I know it’s too early to say shit like that. And I’m not in love with him yet, Lou, but I _could_ be.”

The words are spilling out now, coming and coming and he can’t make them stop. “I could love him and I think he could love me. You might not like it and I know Geoff won’t like it, but I don’t care. I could love him. I really could, Lou and I _want_ that. Why can’t I have that? Why shouldn’t I _let_ myself have that?”

His breath is ragged and Louis is just looking back at him with no emotion in his face. He doesn’t understand, not yet. Not now. But Liam wants that for Louis as well. He wants them to have Zayn and Harry because they seem to be happy and that’s all that really makes sense to Liam’s right now.

For a moment he thinks he’s stunned Louis into silence, but the fates don’t deem him that lucky because Louis hardens up again. He puts on a charade for the one person who knows him more than anyone and replies with a chill in his voice, cold and bitter like a boy that doesn’t believe in silly things like love.

“Don’t fall in love with the first person that sticks around after you take them to bed, Liam.”

And if he had any reservations about this being about Louis and Harry, they’ve vanished now.

“Don’t do that,” he argues, shaking his head, sad at his friend, upset to see him distraught over something that could be so easily fixed. “Don’t make this about me and Zayn. If you have issues with Harry, don’t take them out on me.”

Provided that Louis was still one for the dramatics, he snapped out of his brief silence and jumped off the bed. He gathered Liam’s rucksack that lie forgotten by his shelf and tossed it fiercely at him. “I don’t have issues with Harry. I don’t have _anything_ with Harry.”

This is entirely out of his league at the moment and Liam wishes Lottie or Fizzy were here to help him deal with this. Louis’ sisters know Lou well enough to dismantle the quiet rage that’s always ticking inside him, waiting to go off. He wishes he could call them and tell them to come home from wherever they’ve gone off to with their bratty friends for the evening and make them calm Louis down.

The day wasn’t going how Liam had planned. He wanted to comfort and console him, let him vent on his shoulder and eat a tub of ice cream. He didn’t want Louis to project his problems onto Liam and try to make him second guess things. He wanted to make things better, but he had only managed to make things worse in the process.

Louis wanted answers that Liam had no business discussing. He wanted to know why Harry stuck out from everyone else and how he had captivated Louis in a way that made him eat carbs and get a tattoo. But Liam wasn’t a mind reader; if he was he’d have all the answers he needed a long time ago, like: why his mother had left and never came back for him and where Zayn’s mum and dad were or why Louis had turned so hostile over a summer that Liam had been vacationing in Barcelona. If he could see into people’s minds —Louis’ mind— he would gladly relay the information back. But he wasn’t and he couldn’t and there wasn’t a use for him here now that Louis had made up his mind.

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”

 

**/////**

 

When Liam leaves Louis’ he has to drive to his house and get a suit of clothes for the next morning. He gets to Harry’s and Zayn is waiting for him on the couch. He puts away his clothes and joins him. They stay there until Niall gets home and Harry comes in shortly afterwards.

Harry seems genuine in his greeting to Liam and his dimples are spot on, so he assumes Zayn didn’t tell him that Louis’ excuse was bullshit and that he wanted to be gone before Harry woke up. Looking now, Liam can see the appeal. Harry is fit and he brings out the best in people. He hums while he cooks and smokes on the back porch with Niall so Liam and Zayn can have some privacy time. He’s a good guy to catch feelings for.

Zayn is wrapped up in some documentary about a fellow named Tupac and isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Liam. He’s on the floor and Zayn is seated above him. His back is supported on the couch, in between Zayn’s legs. Zayn’s legs are uncovered despite the known fact that he shivers every second he’s not under the covers, but he doesn’t like to wear pants, ever. Usually Liam can’t complain, but now he can as Zayn turns the volume up and holds Liam’s face with one hand, his thumb scraping across the hairs on his chin. That’s all he gets.

He tries, honest, to get Zayn to let him carry this further. After the night before and an afternoon empty of touches and kisses, he just wants Zayn to do something, _anything._ He tries turning his head to the side and biting up Zayn’s thighs, earning a groan and a pull to the hair. He swipes his tongue out and lets his lips purse to blow cool air on the spot, just to make Zayn shiver. He turns around, fully facing Zayn’s crotch and quickly slides both of his hands back and forth on his legs to warm him up.

“Fucker, I wasn’t shaking because I was cold.” Zayn grumbles this, still without looking down at him, eyes glued to the screen.

Liam tries again. This time he lets his thumb slip under the leg of Zayn’s boxers. He shoves them up until an obscene amount ok skin is showing through the loose leg holes of the clothing. He drops his face to the spot, and grazes his cheeks over his inner thighs. Zayn eyes Liam but lets him continue when Liam spouts off an innocent answer and a look to match. _Just trying to make sure you’re warm, babe._

Zayn doesn’t respond, he glares but that’s the extent of it. Liam rests his head, really makes a show of it, stroking up and down Zayn’s leg, carefully not touching anything that would excite him too much. This earns him another chastising look, but he smiles sweetly and burrows his head back into Zayn’s thigh.

He lays his head down with his nose almost perfectly in line with the bulge of Zayn’s cock. He wants to mouth at it and suck the head from where he’s at; he knows the friction of the wet cotton would make Zayn pant for him and he’d get to see the tightening in Zayn’s stomach muscles from up close, but he doesn’t go for that. He stays where he’s at and moves his head back and forth, the sharp scratch of his beard rubbing against the bare sensitive skin of Zayn’s inner thigh.

He hears and chuckles at the ache in Zayn’s suddenly high octave intake of breath. He knows this is what he loves; Zayn’s obsessed with the feel of Liam’s face on whatever body part he can reach, how his back arches and his toes curl. But he’s still watching that damn movie and Liam get up and turn it off. They only have so much time before Harry and Niall’s generosity runs out and they’re playing the waiting game once more while those two fall asleep.

With his intentions clear, he noses Zayn’s boxers up higher, high enough to expose him fully if Liam tilts his head at just the right angle. The crease where Zayn’s hip and thigh meet is in front of him, waiting for him, calling him down, looking untouched enough to tease. He drags his chin down that crease and breathes out a laugh when Zayn makes whiny noises over his head.

He licks at the line, wiggles his tongue in between it and tastes the salt and sweat on Zayn’s skin. Sneakily he brings his hand around to sit under Zayn’s balls and cup them through the thin material of his boxers. He rolls them gently, careful not to touch Zayn’s cock, his tongue still working the crease and his beard rubbing the delicate skin of his thigh.

“You shit,” he groans, tugging on Liam’s hair again, attempting to pull him up, into a kiss Liam suspects. But he’s busy right now, and Zayn tastes good and feels so good. He doesn’t want to be interrupted. He brings his unoccupied hand up and assigns it the job of holding Zayn in his place, with a firm palm to the chest. “Watch your movie, Zayn.”

He’s hardening under Liam’s ministrations and he gets a rush from feeling it stiffen so close to his face. He wants to be fair to every part of Zayn, so he takes a break to breathe hot and damp air over his cock, because he’s a gentleman and such. Zayn’s finally gotten with the program and he’s pushing his hips forward into Liam’s face and resting his hands on Liam’s shoulder and in the long stands on the top of his hair.

He moves back to his previous position and pulls a bit of skin in his mouth, tugging lightly with his teeth, his ears filling with the sounds rumbling through Zayn’s chest. Liam lays kisses down in his wake, open mouthed and wet; he sucks hard and slow on the skin in that one hypersensitive spot.

He works his hand into Zayn’s shorts from the bottom and touches him, not fully, just light touches of his fingers, but it’s enough for now. He lifts his head and takes a look at Zayn’s thighs; they’re a wreck. They’re rubbed raw and red with marks littering the skin over a mess of hair and tattoos that run on the outside of his upper leg.

“Put your mouth on me, Liam,” and when did Zayn learn to beg so pretty? So kind and polite when he’s sweating over the attention Liam is paying to a spot neither of them had taken time to consider before. “Please, baby?”

And that’s what he lov—likes, that’s what he likes about Zayn. He’s cool and bad and he’s got tattoos and a wicked piercing above his eyebrow, but he wasn’t as much of a bad ass as he thought he was when he was trying to get off. He begged and squealed and took everything Liam would give him.

He ducked his head again, because now they were getting somewhere and all he really wanted was the weight of Zayn in his mouth and his voice in Liam’s ear while he was pushing him to the limit, making him cry out with Liam’s name on his tongue.

“Taste so good, Z—“

“Christ sakes, we were out there for over thirty minutes, mates!”

And end scene. Liam huffed air out of his mouth and dropped his head back down to Zayn’s lap, hoping he could hide his face away there. Zayn hissed and that forced Liam to look up.

“Don’t put that thing near me when I’m trying to kill my boner,” he demands, pointing at Liam’s scruff and sighing loudly when Harry drops himself on the couch cushion nearest them. “And you? Go away. If I can’t get off I want to fucking cuddle.” Harry raises his eyes, suggesting that he’s down for a cuddle and Liam laughs at his free spirit. “With Liam, bugger.”

Harry concedes and drapes himself on Niall in the loveseat. They settle easily and Liam admires how close they are and hates how much it makes him miss his own best friend.

He shakes the thought from his head and sits beside Zayn on the couch, pulling him in and laying them sideways, their legs and arms adjusting from the number of times they’d done this before. Zayn tosses Harry the remote when he asks for it and they end up watching a chick-flick because that’s what Harry’s into right now, but he muddles through it with Zayn in front of him and his worries behind him.

Love, Actually is about to end when Zayn elbows Liam in the ribs and laughs at his chuff for air.

“When these asshats fall asleep you better finish what you started,” he whispers, trying to gauge the other’s responses to know if they’re in fact awake or asleep.

“And what exactly did I start, hm?”

Liam receives another sharp jab to the stomach. “I’m serious, Liam.”

“Oh,” he says, drawing the word out and cackling when Zayn gives him an unimpressed look. “You mean all that stuff earlier? ‘M trying to watch something now, Zayn.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “Get on with it. My dick isn’t going to suck itself.”

“I love it when you talk classy.”

“You love anything that has to do with my mouth.”

 Liam laughs. “I do,” he agrees, because it’s not untrue.

 

**/////**

 

Liam wakes up the next morning with Harry yelling in his ear, screaming about how he’s going to be late and Niall lying across the coffee table with a dry pancake in his mouth. His neck is sore and he makes a note to start taking Harry up on his offer for him and Zayn to sleep in his room. Over the last month he’s learned Zayn is terrible to wake up; he’s all curse words and lidded eyes and he uses his nails to scratch violently at Liam’s back when he carries him over his shoulder and into the shower.

Their late arrival to school has nothing to do with too quiet alarm clocks or the playful argument they had over whether Zayn would walk or skate to school, and everything to do with how much Liam liked to see Zayn on his knees under a stream of water.

The halls were empty when they walked in. Liam had seen Louis’ car in the parking lot on his way to the building and he planned on taking him out for lunch to reconcile, maybe to his favorite restaurant or even back to one of their homes for brunch. They had an hour, after all. Fighting with Louis wasn’t fun for anyone involved, the reason being that Louis was a shit when he was angry and Liam could never be on the receiving end for too long before he broke down and apologized, even if most of the time he wasn’t the one at fault.

Zayn wasn’t on his skateboard this morning, he had it sticking out of his backpack, and for the first time Liam could walk down the hall with him, hand and hand. If he was a mess on the inside that was his own business. They reached the hallway where they had to part and Zayn surprised him by reeling him in.

“See you for lunch,” he asks. “Niall has an ounce left. We can smoke in your car across the lot?”

Liam sighed and leaned into Zayn. “Can’t, love. I’m taking Lou out for lunch.”

Zayn frowns but he doesn’t say anything else, just nods and kisses Liam, suavely pulling his board from his pack with one hand and letting it fall to the ground, slipping out of Liam’s arms and onto it.

Liam slaps at Zayn’s ass. “You getting on a skateboard isn’t supposed to be that hot.”

 “Most things I do are hot, Payne.” Zayn smiles at him and pushes on foot off of the floor, rolling away and snickering at Liam when he looks back and catches him enjoying the view. “Go to class!”

This is what his life was now.

-

Louis doesn’t take much convincing, granted that Liam picks his car keys off of him and tells him he didn’t pack them a lunch or stop to order anything before school, and if Louis doesn’t come with him, he’ll have to eat cafeteria food.

Louis glares at him. “What? No leftovers at Harry’s?”

Liam lied and shook his head. “Nope,” he says. “Finchy brought them some weed and Niall and Harry had the munchies something awful last night.”

“I don’t believe you but I don’t want to eat pre-cooked food so let’s go.”

Liam pumps his fist in the air and Louis rolls his eyes. But he gets in the car, so he can’t count it as a loss.

They end up somewhere posh uptown and Liam remembers why he’s always hated places like this. The food is over priced and it barely stretches out on a small plate. He doesn’t have to worry about getting his picture taken with Louis as a result of not being in the public eye for a while. That being the case, it’s still quite annoying to look over his shoulder out of habit. Also, the food is terrible. Well, not terrible, just ridiculous.

Liam mentioned that he would be paying —with his father’s card, no doubt— and Louis jumped at the chance for a free meal. He wasn’t sure if this was brought on by his hunger for something other than pre-made casseroles or his underhanded need to use up Liam’s spending cash out of spite. Nevertheless, Louis was smiling and stealing sips from Liam’s wine near the end of the hour.

“If this is you trying to kiss my ass,” he says between drinks, “then I want you to know it’s working, but it isn’t necessary.”

“Which is why you ordered double the amount of your usual order?” Liam grimaces when he takes a bite of his overcooked roast. “It’s alright, mate. I pushed you into talking yesterday, you can be mad. I just hope you’re over it, though, ‘cause I’m spending the night at Harry’s again, and I want you there. Don’t want you alone all night, not again.”

Louis primps in his seat for a bit, looking like he was still trying to figure out what to say. “You have to excuse my appetite, Liam. Emotional fucking _distress_ messes with my eating habits.” He stabs at the plate with his fork for a minute and Liam lets him. There is no way he’s interrupting whatever rarity is about to come out of Louis’ mouth. “But sure I’m over it now, because one disc of Gossip Girl cures all, even _disgusting_ feelings for poor boys that aren’t even really _poor_ and the imperious boner I get when smiles at me.” He stabs at his plate once more before dropping it down and looking at Liam. “So of course, let’s go to Harry’s after class, Liam. _Nothing_ would make mehappier.”

He’s one hundred percent sure that he could have went several more lifetimes without the sarcasm and the mention of Louis’ boners, but he was more than thrilled with his revelation of something he felt for Harry other than agitation and annoyance. It was a start.

“So you have disgusting feelings for Harry now,” he asks.

Louis sneers. “ _Disgusting_ ones. Probably just because the sex is good, nothing more.”

Liam nods and checks the time out of the corner of his eye. He winces internally at the mention of Louis’ sex life. “And that’s what we’re leaving it at?”

“Unless you want to spend more pounds on shit food,” he returns, his mouth smirking and his neatly sculpted eyebrows rising in question.

He shakes his head and gets up from the table. “We’re leaving it at that, then.”

“Such a good boy.”

 

**/////**

 

Louis continued to be oblivious of his actions around Harry, to Liam’s knowledge at least. He never willingly spoke of it and Liam was never stupid enough to ask. Over the next few weeks, Louis had casually went out with Harry, glaring at Liam and Zayn when they informed him it was a date, but still fussing over his hair and strong arming Grimmy into helping him pick out a decent pair of trousers. Liam just smiled and carried on about his business which mostly included Zayn, Zayn and more Zayn.

Now it’s early on a Sunday morning, Zayn is with Liam on Harry’s bed. They were tuckered out after their own date last night. A night out on Liam’s side of town for a change, lunch and dinner with Niall and Samantha, who Liam had to admit was a lovely girl, and then drinks on the roof of The Dorchester. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming when Zayn pulled firecrackers he’d snaked from Niall out of his backpack.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned. “We are not popping firecrackers from the rooftop of _The Dorchester._ Are you insane?”

Zayn rolled his eyes and pulled the remainder of items from his pack. “It’ll be fun and romantic,” he said. “Don’t you like shit like that?”

Luckily Liam had paid for them to be alone. Tonight a Gala was being held and anyone who was anybody would be there, along with every camera and shabby attitude belonging to each member of the paparazzi. It was safe for Liam to bring Zayn out without having to look over his shoulder. Having a date set up on the roof was just an added bonus, or precaution, depending on how you look at it.

He shook his head and walked to look over the ledge, admiring the lights of the city beneath him. He turned back to Zayn, resting against the short wall of brick. “We’re supposed to _watch_ fireworks from the rooftop, not be the ones setting them off.”

Zayn was holding up the sticks of flares and sorting out medium size boxes. “Did you pay for us to watch fireworks?”

He hadn’t. “No.”

Zayn grinned, stalking up to Liam and smacking a kiss to his cheek. “Then I’m improvising.” He handed Liam a lighter and a colorful cardboard box. “Shut up and help me out, yeah?”

“I have a reservation for this spot, Zayn. They’re going to know it was me.” He wasn’t scared to set the fireworks off; he was scared of getting caught. He didn’t have a record, so he doubted he would get into any trouble with law enforcement, but his father was another thing. Public school was just about the worst thing Liam had ever been punished with and he didn’t want to see how far his father’s imagination reached.

Zayn huffed and snatched the box from Liam’s hand. He pulled long thin wires from his pack and started tying them to the fuses. “Babe, I’m an _experienced_ criminal. I’ve done this a thousand times.” He kept pulling out spare fuses and cutting them at generous lengths, then attaching them to the fuses already on the boxes and sticks. “We light these up, calmly exit the building and run across the street.”

“And we can do something stupid like kiss under the lights.” He handled the finishing touches and stood next to Liam. He bumped his hip into Liam’s side and raised a lighter to his hand. “Whaddaya say? Let’s be bad together, rich boy.”

Liam stared at him for a moment.

Fuck it. He grabbed the lighter from Zayn’s hand and ignored the smirk on his face. “Your little ass just better know how to run when we get out of the restaurant.” He hesitated before he bent down to get closer to the fireworks. “And _I_ get fucked tonight, lazy git.”

Zayn slipped past him and patted his cheek affectionately. “Baby, all you had to do was ask.”  He pulled another tiny lighter from his back pocket. He examined his fuses and then checked Liam’s to make sure they were long enough to last through their trek across the street.

Liam watched him intently as he lit his lighter and the light flicked dangerously around the sharp planes of his face. He smiled sinisterly in Liam’s direction and gestured for him to light his fuse. Liam let the flame spark a few times before he held it steady. He mentally inventoried and made sure he had his wallet and his keys before he sucked in a gulp of air and set fire to the fuse. Zayn finished his six before Liam was done with his four. Show off.

He stood fast and Zayn took his hand, meeting his eyes with a glimmer of mischief and a whole lot of excitement.

_“Run.”_

-

And Liam was going to kill Zayn for this, later, though. Later when Zayn’s hands weren’t in what little hair he had and his lips weren’t on Liam’s, crashing violently and moving with his laughter at Liam’s attempts to break away as explosions of light burst from the roof of one of the most prestigious restaurants in London.

Zayn’s mouth traveled from Liam’s lips to his chin and his fingernails scratched at his head. Liam groaned into the cold air pressing them together on the crowded street, people stopping and admiring the show coming from the rooftop. “I’m a criminal now, you know? You’ve turned me into a criminal.”

Zayn hummed into his neck and bit him, chuckling at Liam’s yelp. “I like it. It’s hot.”

It was fun and Liam would look back at this as one of the craziest and most reckless things he’s ever participated in, in his eighteen years of living. And the constriction of his throat when he thought of what would happen if his dad were to ever find out wasn’t enough to rival the smile on Zayn’s face and the racing of his heart.

“Let’s go to Harry’s,” he says, pulling Zayn off of him and walking with him, fingers laced, down the street to Liam’s car. “I think he and Lou are at that Twin Pacific concert tonight.”

Zayn pinched at his bum. “It’s Twin _Atlantic_ _._ ”

“Sorry I’m not a hipster, love.”

He scoffed and Liam laughed. “I’m not a hipster, you ass.”

He nodded his reassurances to Zayn and opened his car door, ushering him in and kissing the top of his head on his way into the seat. “Sure you’re not, babe.”

He went around the car and opened the door to climb into his own seat.

Zayn glared at him, eyes squinted and lips pursed in a way that was meant to scare Liam, but fell short, unashamedly turning him on instead. “Oh you’re definitely getting it now.”

-

“Morning,” Zayn shouts as they step out of Harry’s room, looking a little worse for wear. “Louis? Is that you under Niall’s favorite couch throw? How’re you, mate?”

Liam chuckled at his exuberance and headed for the kitchen for coffee. He moved in synchrony with Harry as they maneuvered around the small space with practiced steps. He poured himself a cup and Zayn one too, adding heaps of sugar and creamer to his boyfriends and following Harry back into the living room.

“Why the _hell_ is he so happy,” Louis asked concerning Zayn’s unusual early morning smile and sunny disposition.

Harry snorted and flipped through the television channels. “He got to top last night.”

“Oh, that’s _gross._ ” He pushed Liam’s feet where they came to rest on his lap. “Get your sex glow away from me. I thought you two believed in abstinence? Can you go one night without having sex? I swear Niall and I just got done cleaning the glass out of the carpet from the cologne bottles you broke in the bathroom.”

“Don’t be a shit, you guys,” Zayn says, purring into his cup when Liam’s brushed his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not being a shit,” Harry replies. “I’m just saying Liam’s the loudest bottom this side of the tracks.” He waves his arms in the air, as much as he can with a cup of tea in his hand, and mimics Liam. “Zayn, _Zayn._ _Right there, Zayn._ Oh. _Oh._ _Yes!_ ”

Zayn pinches Liam’s cheek and moves from the floor onto his lap, swinging a leg over his hips and leaning down. “My baby took it like a man, didn’t he?” He rubbed his face against Liam’s and kissed down his neck.

“ _Bloody_ —you two are _disgusting._ Harry, make them stop. Harry. Liam, _what are you doing with your_ — _Harold,_ make them stop!”

“Move, Louis!”

“I can’t move, Harry, I’m stuck. I’m stuck in fear. I cannot move my limbs.”

“You better. I know that moan, body parts are about to come out.”

“Liam. _Liam James Payne,_ I swear to—oh my god, you are _heathens._ ”

Zayn laughs into Liam’s kiss. “Louis, come back. We’re about to get to the good part!”

Liam grins at the sound of a loud crash coming from the foyer. He looks up at Zayn, his hair tousled and his smile big; eyes puffy, but the most beautiful thing Liam has ever woken up to in the morning. The sunshine does wonders for his skin, showcasing all his perfections, his bright brown eyes and the crisp white of his teeth. His cheeks are flushed, either from their actions or the early hour they’d woken up this morning after their night of crime. And other things.

He ground down into Liam’s touch. “Up for he first round of the day?”

“Let’s go,” he says.

“I’m too young for this. Where’s the weed? The liquor? Harry, don’t let me be sober for this!”

“Zayn, you’re scaring h—you toppy mother _fucker._ ”

 

**/////**

Louis has to drag Liam out of Harry’s apartment by his collar at the end of the night.

He eventually goes willingly after a long kiss with Zayn and a promise to see him at school the next morning. Jay, Louis’ mom, calls. She sounds annoyed and Liam isn’t looking forward to going over there if she’s having one of her moods, but she says they need to get home immediately, so he they leave Louis’ car at Harry’s and ride over in Liam’s.

Louis beats Liam in the door and runs upstairs before his mum can catch him, immature git. However much he doesn’t get along with Jay, he’s respectful enough to stick around and see what she has to say. He offers to go upstairs and get Louis, but she declines, says it’s him she wanted to talk to anyway.

That’s when he starts to panic.

Mrs. Tomlinson is a nice woman as far as the media is concerned. She’s the wife of an important business mogul and her face is plastered on television screens and real estate flyers. But that’s just her appearance, Liam knows her as the cut-throat mum who sent Louis to boarding school the first time she caught him smoking weed. He came back with a certain liking for boys and a more apparent love for bud, but the fact that she sent him still rubbed Liam the wrong way.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Tommo,” he asks on his way to her office.

She doesn’t say anything as he sits down in a chair in front of her desk. She slaps a manila envelope in Liam’s hands and goes back to sorting through her Blackberry.

“What’s this?” His mind immediately takes him to the worst place. Last night, the fireworks. He was going to _murder_ Zayn. But he’s smart, smarter than people give him credit for, and he won’t admit anything until he’s sure she has concrete proof.

She sighs and glances up at him. “Cover your tracks, kid.”

He plays dumb. “What?”

She sets her phone down and crosses her legs. Her face is set in stone, unmoving and uncaring. He tries his hardest to remember a time where she was kind, but either his memory isn’t that sharp or that has never occurred. “Your father has shipped off every person that has crossed him. You’re pushing it.”

Liam hardly thinks setting off fireworks on a rooftop could be counted as crossing his father. Maybe dating Zayn, but not the fireworks, his father wouln— _shit._

He rips open the envelope and pictures fall out. His mind races as he sorts through them. There are tons of pictures here. Pictures from pubs and bars and even blurry, dimly lit ones from the park. And there they are, Liam and Zayn, on the roof, thankfully ducked down enough to not be seen with the flares and fireworks. He gasps at the ones from the skate park, the day Zayn had made them official, the happiest day in his life as of late, now tainted with documented evidence that he’s a liar.

“Don’t tell Lou,” he says, because his cover story is the most important thing right now. If Jay thinks he’s just cheating, maybe they won’t get in more trouble. He knows how this looks, a tattooed bad boy on his arm, just after his father had gave him a punishment he obviously wasn’t taking seriously. He was sure Zayn wasn’t up to Geoff’s standards. He didn’t come from a plush background or live a lavish lifestyle. These photos made it look like Liam was spitting on his dad’s wishes, and if he could take the brunt of it and make it look like he was a horny teenager unable to control his hormones, maybe he could get out unscathed.

Jay scoffed and examined her nails, confusing Liam, because nothing here was scoff-worthy. “I’m not sure he has ground to preach on. I have similar pictures of him and Anne’s son.” She laughed cynically. “Of all the men my Louis could have chosen to piss off his father with, it has to be the exiled Styles boy.”

“So you know?”

“I’ve _known,_ ” she says, rolling her eyes like Liam’s just insulted her intelligence. “You and my son were always the most awkward couple.”

“Then why are you only saying something now,” he blurts.

“Because you’re getting sloppy,” she tells him, pointing to the pictures in his hands. “You aren’t going to events, you aren’t seen with Lou and Geoff is getting anxious. So is my husband. They asked me to look into it, and I did.”

He panics. “Are you going to tell them?”

She shakes her head and scoots closer to her desk, looking hard into Liam’s eyes; scrutinizing him and making him squirm under her gaze. “I won’t be reprimanded because he thinks I can’t keep the two of you in line while they’re gone.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking back at the photos. He wonders which ones Jay has of Louis and Harry, how much more she knows than he does. He looks up to ask her, “what am I supposed to tell Lou?”

“Not a thing.”

“Why?”

Her face is evil when she speaks next, so much so it makes Liam’s stomach turn. Her eyes are beady and calculating, working out some sort of master plan behind the thin rim of her glasses.

How can this be the same mom that was so broken up over her daughters being exposed to cocaine? He imagines a cold upbringing can do more damage than any drug.

“I know my son,” she started. “I’ve seen those pictures. _Look at me,_ Liam,” she snaps. “You think he’ll let himself have this?” He doesn’t know what she wants him to say, so he shakes his head and hopes for the best. “He won’t. So you don’t say a word to him. We can sit back and let him destroy it by himself.”

It all adds up in Liam’s head. “And if you tell him to stay away from Harry, he’ll do the opposite.”

She smiles. “Exactly.”

Internally, Liam is shaking his head, truly disgusted at the woman before him. He gulps. “So I have to stay away from Zayn, is that right?”

“You can do whatever you want, Liam, as long as I don’t get any more of these pictures.”

She’s so distant, like she’s not in the room with him; like she doesn’t care that it’s her son’s life she’s talking about. If he could just reason with her, remind her of what she had to see in her husband at one point, love and warmth, instead of the icy emotions inhabiting her now.

“I think I love him,” he whispers, remembering how Zayn had looked tonight, and all this morning. How light and lucid Liam felt, wrapped around someone he knew cared for him. Around someone that wanted to spend time with him and hear him tell stupid jokes. Around someone he might eventually let himself love.

His thoughts flood with Louis, how he was upstairs right now, probably still on the phone, because Harry had made him promise to call once he got home; just so he’d know they arrived safely. He pictured the smile on his face that hadn’t left since he met Harry or more accurately since he confessed to Liam in that stupid restaurant that he felt something for Harry. Liam remembers how proud he was, still is, of his best friend.

He tries to convey that to Jay, through his eyes and his body language, by the way he sits in his chair; not closed off but open to whatever happens. That’s how he feels, that’s how she should feel.

But he can see it fall short. He can see the doubt and laughter in her eyes. He sees all the years in her face, aging her into a woman that might have made her ill when she was younger. She laughs at him and picks up her phone, leaving Liam alone in his seat as she exits with words she thinks will strike him down.

“Just like her,” she mutters. “Just like your mother.”

But it doesn’t tear him down, it lifts him up.

 

**/////**

So he drives.

He drives because Jay lit a fire underneath him and made him realize how important things were; shaped things into perspective. He drives for his mum, chasing the same fairytale she’d left looking for. One about adventure and bravery, with intricate details of love and laughter thrown in. He drives because that’s Zayn. That’s Zayn holding his hand under a bridge in a part of town he’d never risk being in. And that’s Zayn forcing him on a small stage in a crowded bar, making him sing his heart out to drunken patrons while Zayn claps in the audience. And that’s Zayn laughing when Liam picks him up and threatens to never put him down.

He drives to the one thing that makes sense, because his life has been a disaster for as long as he can recall.

He reaches his destination and jumps out, almost before he’s had a chance to put the car in park. Actually his lights may still be on, but he doesn’t have time to go and turn them off; he’s got something he needs to do.

He beats on the door, bangs and bangs until he’s met with a familiar face. A face with full lips and three days worth of stubble and huge gorgeous brown eyes, squinting at him behind a thick pair of glasses.

“Liam? What are you doing her—“

He stops him with a gentle hand to the cheek, one thumb caressing the skin under his eyelids. The opposite thumb roamed his face; categorizing the planes, memorizing the lines and touching all of the other stunning things that filled up such a small space.

How was he so lucky? Zayn was amazing.

And that’s why he means the three words that come out of his mouth. It might be too early and Liam could be speaking sooner than he was ready, he could be fooling himself. But he was admitting this to himself, to Zayn, before he turned out like Jay or Geoff or any other version of a hollowed out adult who lost touch with the things that mattered. He found what he was looking for, what his mum had been looking for, what she had told him about on late nights with him atop her knee.

He says it with conviction, because later he might regret putting his heart on the line, but right now he doesn’t. Right now, all he can see is Zayn and he can’t think of another person he wants to say these words to.

“I love you,” he whispers, because he doesn’t want to scream it or yell it, or say it where everyone can hear. Liam doesn’t say it to impress Harry or make Niall roll his eyes. He wants this to be theirs to share. He doesn’t say it to get anything; he had all he wanted in between his two hands.

“Zayn, I _love_ you.”  


	6. The Vacancy That Sat In My Heart Is A Space That Now You Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this chapter focuses a lot of Lilo's friendship, idk i love them and they just needed some Lilo time after all the Ziam and Larry. uh, also this chapter is super sappy nearing the end and as usual, Zayn and Liam are super cute.. but i must warn you, this is definitely the calm before the storm. i wouldn't want to send you off all happy and shock you to death next chapter.
> 
> there should only be four more chapters left. also, my apologies for taking so long, this is the longest chapter of this fic to date. anyway, have a nice read! each comment means the world to me, so leave me something to tell me how much you love it or hate it xxx :D

“Zayn, I _love_ you.”

Liam held his face in his hands, looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Zayn eyes went wide, impossibly so. His hands came up to hold Liam’s, by his face. His brows went tight, his eyes squinting at Liam disbelievingly; unsure.

“You what?” His voice wasn’t shaky, just questioning.

“I love you. You don’t have to say it back,” he assured, panicking at Zayn’s lack of words. “You don’t. I just- _I love you,_ okay?” He stroked his cheek, his thumb moving along with Zayn’s. “I know it’s too soon, and you probably think I’m crazy for falling in love in what, three moths? Two and a half? But I’ve _never_ felt like this. This is new to me, too.”

Zayn opened his mouth to speak, but Liam silenced him with a finger to his mouth.

“Don’t say anything yet, alright? Let me finish,” he begged. “Let me explain myself before you tell me to fuck off.”

“Liam, I’m—“

His grip on Zayn’s face tightened, forcing him to look Liam in the eyes. “Please?”

Zayn nodded, letting Liam carry on.

“I don’t know what this _is_ , Zayn. I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what it feels like. I don’t know.” His mind is racing, he’s muddling through his feelings one at a time. “But I love that you want to be with me. I’m in love with that. You want me, you don’t push me away. You never have, well, you did, but I got past that. You _let me_ get past that.”

Zayn still has a guarded look on his face, like he doesn’t know where Liam is going with this. That makes two of them.

He lets his hands fall to his neck, grazing the skin, feeling Zayn’s pulse erupt at the touch. “I love that people are scared of you. I love that you have this unbreakable image, this bad boy who’s covered in tattoos and filled with teenage angst.”

Zayn chuckles at this, and that brings Liam’s point back into view. “But then you smile. You push your tongue against your teeth and your mouth gets all big and I have a hard time understanding how anyone can see you for anything other than the huge fucking softie you are.”

Zayn’s lip juts in a pout and Liam surges forward to seal their mouths together. After a moment he leans backwards, knowing if he kisses Zayn as he should, he’ll never finish what he was saying.

Liam pauses to collect his thoughts. “But I love that. I love your laugh and your smile and those eyes you give me when you want me to get you a beer from the kitchen. I love how you don’t care about anything,”

“That used to drive me insane,” he admits, trying to be honest. He’s grown impossibly tired of telling lies. “I didn’t understand how someone could be so confident in themselves at one moment, ignoring the criticism, defying people’s expectations. And the next moment you’re worried you’re not good enough.”

He brings Zayn forward, resting his head in the crook of his neck, kissing the flesh, the shaky vein, trying to show him. “How could you ever think that? How could you not know you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met? Who made you doubt that?”

He feels Zayn’s muscles tense at the question, attempting to gasp out a response. Liam shushes him and keeps kissing into his neck. “No, don’t tell me. I know you’re not ready.” He pulls back to let his own eyes reach Zayn’s. “But I want to be around when you’re ready. I want to know everything you ever want to tell me.”

He continues. “I love that you keep things so close to your heart. You’re safe but you’re so damn dangerous.” Zayn smirks this time, misunderstanding his words. “No, you ass. You being dangerous has nothing to do with smoking or trying to turn me into a felon. You scare me, Zayn. You make me want things I’m not used to wanting. You make me see things and feel things and that’s scary. As fuck.”

He closes his eyes. The next words on his tongue will be his last for the night. It’s his final string of admissions and if Zayn turns him away, he wants the last image in his head to be a version of Zayn he’s keen on remembering; cunning and smirking, not dejected and cold.

“I love that I can’t wake you up in the morning without a promise of a blowjob in the shower. And that it makes us late to school _every_ time, but I stopped caring a long time ago. I love that you won’t eat anything I cook, you usually shove it into the bin or give it to Niall – cause he’ll eat anything. But you pretend to like it, still.”

He lets his hands move down Zayn’s body, blind and searching, memorizing what they can. “I love that you refuse to do your homework, but you force me to do mine. And you sing in the shower when I’m not there. I love how free you are, how nothing can hold you back but yourself.” His hands find Zayn’s waist and he holds on, his grip probably too tight, but he wants to hold him as close as he can.

“I love when you climb on top of me in the middle of the night. You know we have school the next day and you know Harry’s couch is the most uncomfortable place to have sex, but you want it. You want _me._ And you don’t know,” he groans, “ _God,_ you don’t know how good that feels. To be wanted by you. I lov—“

His words are halted by a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t open his eyes immediately. He can see the significance of where Zayn stopped him; in the middle of another I love you. He knows Zayn doesn’t want to hear it, and his heart can break later, because he wants to reassure Zayn now.

He wants him to know this can be one-sided, Liam can deal with that. Zayn doesn’t ever have to love him back, as long as he lets Liam love him in the first lace. That’s enough. It’ll always be enough, as pathetically desperate as that sounds.

“Open your eyes, Liam.” He could feel Zayn strain up to press kisses into his eyelids. Only then, did Liam realize that tears were falling. Liam knew why. He knew this would be it for them, he hoped it wouldn’t be, but he knew going in that it was an options, somewhere in the back of his mind. “Hey, look at me, will you?”

Slowly he let his eyes relax from where they’d been screwed shut. He peered down to see a smile on Zayn’s face, and he felt his thumb brushing the tears from Liam’s cheeks. He must have looked pitiful.

“Can I fucking talk for a second, chatty Cathy?” The words themselves were sort of hard, but wrapped up in Zayn’s voice, smooth and gentle, accompanied by that blinding smile, they made Liam feel warm.

Liam swallowed the lump that was trapped in his throat; his neck flexing under the action and his gaze averting Zayn’s, just in case. “Uh- sure,” he mumbled to Zayn’s question. “Yeah, go ahead.”

He steeled himself, ready for the answer, ready to be crushed and have to run off to Louis to pick up the pieces. Ready to see Zayn in the hallway and in class and know he made a fool out of himself. He wasn’t fully prepared, but he didn’t want it to show.

Zayn sighed and brought Liam’s forehead down to his own.

Liam watched him smile, unsure of what he had to be happy about. This wasn’t funny in any regard; there should be no pleasure in breaking someone’s heart.

“I love you, too, you cheesy bastard.” He forced their lips together, kissing away Liam’s confusion and his doubts _(because had he heard him right?)_ and making him smile, hearing those words mirrored back.

He pulled back and laughed when a whine caught low in Liam’s throat. He shook his head. “God, I have no clue why, but I love you, too.”

And Liam could live with that. That was more than enough.

 

**/////**

 

 _I love you_ doesn’t change things, much.

Zayn still bitches in the mornings and he they’re still late to school time upon time. They still can’t keep their hands to themselves, and if they were bad before, if anything, they were worse now. Liam still walked beside Zayn to class and he still kissed him in parting. Zayn still scrunched his nose when Liam said something toeing the line of overly sweet. Only now, three words were just tacked on to each action.

It amazed Liam that the simple phrasing of words could have that much power over two people. The words burned slowly in his heart, making it flutter and sometimes come to a stop when they would fall from Zayn’s lips; in the morning with his face pressed into Liam’s neck, or at night, his head thrown back in ecstasy as Liam towered over him.

It pushed all other thoughts from his mind, brought Zayn even further to the forefront. He spent more nights at Harry’s, just to wake up with Zayn seeking warmth in the comfort of his arms. Zayn’s hands seemed to grip him tighter, his hold stronger. And Liam relished in it, basked in the added attention Zayn gave him throughout the day. He hugged Liam more, unafraid of tarnishing his hard reputation by giggling when Liam picked him up in the cafeteria, wrapping him in his arms for a long kiss and setting him down only when the Café monitor cleared his throat several times too many.

So maybe things did change, in the slightest. But Liam loved every second of it nearly as close as he loved Zayn himself.

 

**/////**

 

Liam likes Niall. He’s a good friend to Zayn and he provides comic relief in the tensest of situations. He’s nice and sunny, always walking around with a smile on his face. Sometimes Liam will catch him graced with an annoyed facial expression, unimpressed by the sometimes ridiculous actions of their friends, but Liam so enjoys those faces. They’re amusing.

He’s spent time alone with Niall a handful of times. They smoke together when Zayn is asleep and Louis and Harry are off pretending no one notices how gone they are for one another. Niall likes to talk a lot, once someone gets the ball rolling. And his laugh is one of the most adorable things Liam has ever had the pleasure of hearing.

But as cool as Niall is, he is no Zayn, and that’s all Liam really wants right now, is Zayn.

Harry dragged Liam’s boyfriend with him to a mandatory dinner with his parents in Glasgow. They were on a business trip and a family meeting was held under the guise of a dinner date. Zayn refused to let Harry go by himself, and Niall had to work that weekend. So they flew out on Anne’s tab and they would be gone for the day of, and half the day after. They left on Saturday.

It’s now Sunday and Liam’s getting antsy. The flight has been rescheduled twice, delaying four hours, and he couldn’t hold himself still for very much longer.

It was bizarre for him to stop and think of how much his life now revolved around Zayn. He did used to have his own friends, but of course when Liam stopped showing up to school, no one made moves to reach out to him. He should be thankful, those aren’t the kinds of friends he wants anyway, and as long as he has Louis, he’ll be fine.

But he can’t help but feel a little useless as he sits with someone who’s primarily Zayn’s friend, while Louis is out with Grimmy and Fincham, and Zayn and Harry are on their way back.

“What’s your favorite food, Liam?” Niall asks, passing him a bowl of crisps and pausing their current game. “’M ‘bout to order in.” He made a show of rubbing his belly, smiling at Liam. “Gotta eat while the cooks are away.”

Liam tried not to let the reminder of Zayn’s absence bother him. He laughed. “You’re a good cook, Ni.”

“Yeah, but I’m lazy. So whaddaya want? ‘M payin’.”

“They should be back soon, its half past eight now,” he says. “And if we get Chinese, Zayn’ll want extra egg rolls. Or maybe that sweet and sour sauce, he lives for that stuff.”

Niall groans and drops his head to in his hands.

“What,” Liam asks; unsure of what Niall’s going on about.

“Can you go for,” he checks his watch, “five minutes without mentioning him?”

Liam feels his cheeks flush at the question. “Sorr—”

Niall shakes his head with a smile, patting Liam’s knee and picking up the phone. “I was just giving you a hard time, man. I think it’s sweet.”

He dials the number and waits for it to ring, asking Liam for his order and relaying it to the person on the other end of the phone. He orders Sesame Chicken for himself, Lo Mien for Liam and egg rolls for both of them. He also asks for prawns and extra soy sauce and Liam isn’t sure who that’s for because he knows or a fact Niall hates shrimp and his face grimaces as he requests soy sauce.

He finishes his phone call and rests back on the couch, picking up his controller and tossing his phone on the table.

“Who are the prawns for?”

Niall looks over at him disbelievingly. “Zayn?” His face lights up and he sits up quickly. “Did I finally know something about Zayn that you didn’t? _What?_ Mate, that’s crazy.”

He can’t tell if Niall is being sarcastic or if he’s genuinely happy, so he rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath. “It’s not my fault Zayn has horrible taste in food. Who likes prawns? They’re disgusting.”

Niall nods and un-pauses their game, moving his player around, effectively starting his slaughter on Liam for the fourth time today. “I can agree with you there, man. I don’t know about you, but my girl ain’t kissin’ me with the taste of fish in her mouth.” He giggles and flits his thumb over the controller. “That pleasure’s supposed to belong to me.”

Liam stays silent and ignores Niall’s crude joke, trying his best to catch up with Niall’s players.

“You get it? Fish? Cause pu—”

“Yes, Niall. I got it.”

“Just making sur— _Boom!_ You really suck at this game, Liam. That’s four.”

“Yes, Niall, I know.”

“Geez, I can’t wait till Zayn gets back, you’re fussy with out his dic—“

“Niall!”

“I was just sayin’.”

-

Nick and Matt return with a sullen Louis shortly after Niall destroys Liam at FIFA for the sixth time.

Louis’ dragged in on Grimmy’s arm and thrown at Liam, who he cuddles into immediately, resting his head in the crook of Liam’s neck and asking him why they were friends with these people in the first place. Liam sets Louis aside and laughs when he subjects Niall to his clinging limbs.

Grimmy drops Louis’ keys and wallet in Liam’s lap. “Here, you take him,” he says, glaring in Lou’s direction. “I wouldn’t have signed up to baby sit if I knew he was going to be _cranky._ ”

Louis raises his middle finger in the air from his spot on Niall’s lap. “Fuck you,” he mutters. “I’m not cranky.”

Niall’s hand pets at the older lad’s back, stroking soothing circles there, crunching on what’s left of his fortune cookie. “Aw, do you miss your boyfriend?”

Louis sat up and glared at Niall, resorting back over to Liam and leaning against him, his cheeks red from his day out in the sun, but also the combined nit-picking of Niall and Grimmy.

“He’s not my boyfriend, you little Irish fuck.” He sounds like one of those teenage girls, the ones who hide their boyfriends away from their families and blush astoundingly when the age-old, so are you seeing anyone, question comes up during holiday dinner.

“Who said I was talking about Harry,” Niall asks, leaning forward and stabbing a piece of chicken and putting it in his mouth, chewing lewdly and smiling bright at the pensive look on Louis’ face.

Louis is intrigued by the food and he abandons Liam once more to scoot to Niall’s end of the couch. “Screw you, Horan,” he says over a mouthful of chicken.

Niall rubs his back. “It’s alright, brother. Liam has fared just about as well, brings up our Zaynie every chance he gets.”

Liam shoots him a glare, huffing when he’s presented with a lapful of Nick. He sends a silent plea to Finchy, which goes unanswered as he seats himself on the chair, and scavenges off of Liam’s leftovers.

Nick is pinching his cheek. “Out little couple is in love,” he gushes. “Who would have thought that Liam Payne would fall for one of his _bad boys_?”

“Shut up,” he says, with a chunk of his cheek stuck between Grimmy’s fingers.

“No, it’s cute!”

Louis nods his head. “Yes, very cute. If cute means sitting in the corner and whispering I love you _over and over_ again and giggling like you’re fucking _twelve,_ “ he sneers. “No that’s _definitely_ cute.”

Liam swats him and laughs when he chokes on his food. “Do I need to remind you that I found you lying with your head in Harry’s lap in the back yard last weekend, with his fingers in your _fringe?_ ”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Louis would slap his own mother if she touched his fringe.”

They all take Lou’s silence and the color in his cheeks as an admission of guilt.

Niall gave a gasp of mockery. “He touched your hair?”

Finchy chimed in. “No way!”

Louis left his fork in the container and stomped off to Harry’s room.

“I hate you all.”

-

Grimmy and Niall go to the backyard and light up. Louis doesn’t come out of Harry’s room until he hears a cab pull up and he flips Liam off when he notices the start of a smile on his best mate’s face.

“Louis and Harry sitting in a tree…” Fincham trails off.

“I wish you a painful—” he cuts off when Harry comes through the door and throws himself forward, into Harry’s surprised arms. Harry chuckles and throws an arm around Lou’s waist and sets his luggage down.

“What’d you guys do to him,” he asked, amused at Louis’ mutterings in his throat. “I know I didn’t do anything myself to earn a hug like this.” He pulled back and checked Louis’ pupils. “And he isn’t wasted, so what gives?”

It makes Liam a little sad to know that Harry thinks Louis has to be drunk off his ass or stoned to show him any affection, but Louis pulls Harry back in and rubs his face over his collar bone, and Liam thinks maybe things are starting to look up for the two of them.

“They were fucking rude to me the whole time you were gone,” he says. “Make them stop.”

Harry kisses Louis’ hair and Liam and Finchy laugh at the pleased sound he makes.

He waits anxiously for Zayn to come in behind Harry, and when he hears a door open, he’s disappointed to find it’s only Grimmy and Niall. Niall rolls his eyes at Liam’s pouting face and Grimmy pats his cheeks and makes him look up at Zayn walking through the door, head down and headphones in.

“Cheer up, buttercup,” he laughs. “Your boy is right there.”

In his own world, Zayn stumbles into Harry’s back. Liam beams fondly; he’s never paying attention to where he’s walking. He looks up and spots Liam. Liam’s mouth stretches into a slow grin at Zayn’s thrilled smile. The harsh lighting showcases the bags beneath his eyes and his shirt is wrinkled underneath the worn cotton of his hoodie. Liam can’t wait to kiss his face.

Zayn drops his single duffle by the couch and sits next to Liam, face schooled to look impassive in front of his friends, as if they aren’t all aware Zayn is equally as eager to set his eyes on Liam as Liam is for him to be home again.

Their hands find their way to each other, and Liam can’t hold back any longer. He surges forward and kisses him, their smiles meeting and slotting together. He felt silly for reacting like this with only a bit over a day between them. Liam refused to apologize, though, when it felt unfathomably satisfying to have Zayn’s hand in his and his skin just below his fingertips.

No, that was perfectly justifiable in his opinion.

Liam frees his hand from Zayn’s and uses it to cup his cheek, then lightly grips his chin to pull his mouth open and slip his tongue inside. He tastes like stale salt and the lingering of smoke, but it’s so comforting and familiar that Liam moans at the burst of flavor across his palette. His tongue slides past lips and over teeth, feeling the silken lining of Zayn’s cheek.

“I missed you,” he whispers. He back and kisses the dark bruises under his eyes, then his nose and lastly his lips again. “Is it awful that I haven’t slept a lick since you’ve been gone?”

Zayn shoves his shoulder. “It was a day and a half, Liam.”

His laughter ghosts across Zayn’s skin. He looks into the eyes he didn’t get the chance to wake up to this morning and kisses the face he didn’t get to fall asleep with last night.

“I don’t want to miss a thing,” he says, laughing because he knows he’ll be chastised for his clichéd line, but he means it. Liam doesn’t want to miss a thing. “Don’t have fancy dinners across the country and I won’t have a reason to miss you.”

He doesn’t want to miss out on Zayn’s feet getting tangled up in his jeans when he steps out of the shower. Or the shake of his head when Liam makes failed attempts at riding Zayn’s precious skateboard. And as weird as that sounds, he likes it. Liam likes the little things; the secret smiles and the slow kisses. He maybe even loves it.

Zayn’s chin almost collides with Liam’s nose when his head falls back in a bout of loud cackles. He pulls Liam up with him towards the kitchen. “Help me go make something to eat, you giant fucking cheese ball.”

He holds Zayn back in the middle of the living room, reeling him in and smiling when Zayn’s hands immediately make their way around his neck. “We already ordered Chinese.”

Zayn peeks around Liam’s shoulders at the coffee table. “Did you get prawns?”

Liam nods, failing to see any reason why Zayn should know it was _Niall_ who had to remind him to get his favorite food. But he confirmed it. “Only the best for my ba—”

“He’s been inside the door for three minutes,” Louis groans, disrupting the quiet of the room and popping the bubble of intimacy Liam and Zayn were sharing. “Can you two go be in love somewhere else?”

Grimmy tossed an egg roll at Louis’ head and everyone laughed when he turned to glare and find the culprit. Harry shushed him and drew him back into a hug.

“Harold,” Grimmy said, reaching for another item of food to launch at Louis. “Can you go fuck the bitterness out of that child, so I can watch my babies be in love? Okay, _thanks_.”

Zayn dragged Liam to the floor beside the coffee table, scoping out his shrimp and dipping it in a sauce, offering Liam a bite out of generosity and shrugging when he declined. 

“I can try, Grim.” Harry nudged Louis’ hip. “Whaddaya say, Lou? Up for it?”

Louis’ glare holds still and he flips everyone off. “Why am I friends with any of you?”

But he doesn’t protest as Harry pushes him into his bedroom and shuts the door.

“Liam, babe, would you hand me that egg roll?”

“The one on the floor?”

“Yeah, mate, we don’t waste food around here.”

“Niall, that’s disgusting.”

“Hey, it’s your boyfriend that’s eating it. So not only will his mouth taste like pu—”

“Niall.”

“I was just saying.”

 

**/////**

 

As much fun as Liam is having with Zayn, he still has to be careful. Jay’s words still leave him unsettled and he’s careful that whenever he takes Zayn somewhere, it’s spontaneous; not giving anyone, especially an investigator time to catch up to his plans. He counts his phone conversations, texting and talking, as unsafe and tells Zayn in person when they’ll see each other next.

He still thinks he’s not cautious enough, only because of the looks Jay has been giving him. She never dares to say anything, not with Geoff and her husband being home for the month, but she _looks_ at Liam, looks at him like she knows.

Let her know, he thinks. As long as she has no more proof than she already holds against him, he’ll be fine. And if she chooses to go back on her word and turn the photos over to Geoff, he can take her down with him, explaining she’s known for longer than she’s let on.

So he lets her frown and glare and sneer at him and he continues to see Zayn. Fuck it, he’s happy.

Grimmy is holding a weekend long party at his father’s cabin, an hour out. Usually Geoff and Tommo wouldn’t care about their son’s plans, but they have to fib and say they’re going on a romantic getaway for the remainder of the weekend to appease them. There’s a function on Saturday they have to pretend to begrudgingly decline an invite to, and this was the only way they could think of to get out of it.

So Liam throws and arm over Louis’ shoulders and smiles in his father’s face.

Geoff claps him on the back. “The press will be happy to hear you two will be out on the town again soon.”

Louis nods and wheels the luggage out to the car that’s not filled with clothes, but bottles of booze wrapped in bubble wrap and about several pounds of weed Niall gave him to hold onto.  Liam’s bag is the one actually filed with articles of clothing, because Louis _promised_ he needed all five pairs of trousers and three different sets of pajama bottoms, not to mention all separate pairs Toms he shoved in next to Liam’s pants and shirts.

“I’m sure they will, dad.” He hauled his luggage behind him and waved goodbye to Jay and Tommo, and shook his dad’s hand on the way to the door. “See you guys on Sunday.”

Liam wheels his suit case out to the car and lifts it into the trunk. His car is just got back from the shop, three weeks and two grand later, and he wasn’t willing to risk taking it out of town just yet. He shut Louis’ trunk and climbed into the passenger seat. Liam buckled up and checked the time. It was a little past nine, they should make it there around ten.

Zayn, Niall, and Harry had caught a ride with Grimmy around noon to make sure everything was ready for tonight. Liam and Louis would have gone sooner if they hadn’t had to attend a photo op for an article Jay would be featured in, something about the dynamics of family and bonding.

Liam was there only to show the diversity of Jay’s family, with her having a gay son and all. He scoffed. The fact that anyone thought Jay Tomlinson knew anything about family was amusing to him.

“You ready, you shit?” Louis put the car in drive and winded down the long gravel trail of his driveway. “I’m getting wasted this weekend, so you better be sober by Sunday night. I don’t plan on being in any position to drive.”

Liam rolls his window down and lets the cool night air wash over him. “I doubt it matters what position _you_ plan on being in. Doesn’t Harry top?”

Liam laughs and Louis rolls the window up abruptly, attempting to get Liam’s head stuck in between it.

“You just shut the fuck up, Liam Payne.”

-

They arrive at the cabin and follow Harry’s instructions to the back of the house, to a closed off parking garage. Louis has trouble maneuvering around the sea of cars and people in the yard, but they make it there safely and he hauls the suit case of drinks out and into the party. Liam has the pleasure of tugging along all of their clothes.

Harry’s waiting for them by the small staircase and when he sees Louis, Liam smiles at the grin on his face. He directs them to the cooler in the living room and Louis takes the few bottles he brought for himself upstairs with Harry. He offers to take the luggage in Liam’s hands, and he happily hands it over. He shrugs at Liam’s raised eyebrow when he and Louis make their way up, but he doesn’t say a word, to Liam at least.

He muddles through the party, taking a few shots from some of the people he used to go to school with, laughing and dancing with a nice girl from his Chemistry class. He’s had about four glasses by the time he figures he should go seek out his boyfriend. He cheers on a guy who’s doing a keg stand and walks around the lot of people in the dining room. Grimmy sure knows how to throw a party.

He finds Zayn in the backyard, with a group of friends he doesn’t know. They have a vaporizer in between the five of them and Zayn looks positively blown.

He squats behind him and rests his hands on his shoulders. “Hey, babe,” he says, inhaling some of the smoke in the air and kissing below Zayn’s ear. “Having fun?”

Zayn hums his agreement and turns his head to catch Liam’s lips with his own. His tongue is heavy and uncoordinated in Liam’s mouth, and when he pulls away, Zayn’s hands twist to pull him back down.

“No,” he pouts, “kiss me.” His mouth is dry and Liam can tell by his twitches in movement at Liam’s touch that he’s oversensitive and probably horny as fuck.

“I’m going to go get you something to drink, okay?” He stands up and bends down again to kiss at his protruding lip. “Anything you want?”

“You,” he says, eyes closed, leaning back into Liam’s hand at his scalp. “Come back soon, ‘kay?”

Liam chuckles. “Okay.”

He leaves Zayn where he found him and enters the party, in search of the cooler and a cup. He spots a familiar mop of blonde hair on his way past the kitchen and stops when he sees a stack of red cups on the counter.

“Niall!” He walks in and Niall parts from the girl he had up against the counter. Liam hopes when she shows her face that it’s Samantha. It is. “How you doin’ tonight?”

Niall turns around and bumps his fist against Liam’s. “Good, with my girl. Are you staying the whole weekend?”

He nods, grabbing two cups from the stack, smiling at Samantha as he tiptoes past them into the small space where the cups were sitting. He steps back once he retrieved what he came to get. “Yeah, Louis and I are. What about you two?”

Samantha nods as well and reaches to take a drink from her own cup. “Yeah,” she says, her words only a little slurred. “Grimmy made me bring my Karaoke machine. Winner gets the master Suite.”

“How does one win at Karaoke?”

“The one that doesn’t sound the most horrible after a night of drinking,” Niall answers.

Liam hums in interest. “I think Louis’ll have you beat by the end of the night. That lad can _sing,_ drunk or not.”

Samantha smirks. “I’ll give him a run for his money.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees. “Sammy can sing. _Oi,_ where’d Louis run off to? Does he have what I gave him on Wednesday?”

“He does. He went upstairs with Harry as soon as we got here, though. I wouldn’t go looking for them if I were you.”

He laughs, leaning over to kiss Samantha. “Eh, I’ll get it later.” Liam turns to pour his and Zayn’s glass, settling for the stock in the kitchen. “’M happy for those two for finally getting their act together. Two of my best mates, Haz and Lou. Hope they keep it up.”

Liam’s mind wanders back to Jay’s words. _We’ll let Louis ruin this for himself,_ and more than anything he hopes that they won’t hold true. He promises himself to make an effort on their behalf, he would hate to see Louis this happy and then crushed when it all falls apart, due to his prior resistance.

He’s in the middle of thought when a warm pair of hands slithers around his waist. He turns with his hands full and sees Zayn’s sated faced smiling lazily up at him.

“I told you I was getting drinks,” he explained. He set the cups down on the counter and lifting Zayn up to sit beside them, clearing room for him on the cabinet with his forearm.

Zayn is eye level with him, and his grin is a bit dopey. “You were taking too fucking long.” The syllables of his sentences draw out, rolling over his heavy tongue, making him sound like a small child, pouting and irritable.

“I’m sorry,” Liam apologizes.

Zayn’s sigh is heaver than necessary, and he pecks Liam’s lips. “’S okay,” he says. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

He kisses Liam again, longer this time and he faintly registers Niall and Samantha laughing as the exit. Zayn’s hands find their way to Liam’s neck, scratching his nails into the skin behind his head. And his lips travel, to his neck then his shoulder, wet and open-mouthed.

“And I want to fuck you,” he pants, under duress from his own actions, hyping himself up. “Or have you fuck me, I’m not picky.”

“I just got here, babe,” he says, moaning when Zayn sneaks his hands under Liam’s shirt and makes a go for his nipples, pinching them in between his fingers, his blunt nails scraping the nubs.

“That shit made me horny, Liam.” His breath is hot on Liam’s collar, making him twist uncomfortably in his spot. He reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. “We have all weekend to party, let’s go upstairs.”

Liam nods with his eyes closed, feeling the broad stripes Zayn was licking into his skin, reacting to the worrying of fingers on his chest. “Okay,” he agrees. “Give me a second.”

He tries to break away to set their cups in the fridge for later but Zayn’s hands are firm. “Please, Li?”

“I’m coming,” he says, taking an unsteady breath and freeing himself from Zayn’s hands enough to clear his head for a moment.

Zayn follows after him, hopping off the counter and coming up behind him near the refrigerator. Liam puts the cups inside. He twists in Zayn’s arms and is jostled against the ice box door as Zayn starts unbuttoning Liam’s belt buckle. “Not fast enough,” he breathes. “I need you now.”

Liam tries to brush his hands away, except he can’t react fast enough before Zayn has both hands down the front of Liam’s boxers and he’s falling fast to his knees. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Zayn,” he begs. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

He’s close enough to the head of Liam’s cock that he can feel himself twitch at the wave of heat from Zayn’s breath. “No, I want you now.”

His tongue flicks out and Liam knows this can’t happen here, he’s can make out with Zayn in any place at any given time, savoring his lips and feeling him in the confines of his hands, but he’s not going to get his dick sucked in Nick Grimshaw’s kitchen where anyone can just walk in. He stuffs himself back in his boxers and hauls a disapproving Zayn up and bends down to haul him over his shoulder.

He has a grip on Zayn’s thighs as he walks them through the party and towards the stairs. Zayn’s giggling now, sticking his hands in the back of Liam’s pants, gripping his ass and thoroughly enjoying himself. The git.

“Zayn, _wait_ just a second,” he grits through clenched teeth, his cheeks tinted with his own impatience and arousal, swimming through the sea of people accumulated in the tight space of the main room.

Never one to follow instructions, Zayn raises the back of Liam’s shirt and bites down, drawing whatever skin he can reach into his mouth, laughing all the while.

Liam makes it to a room and intrudes on a couple. He yells for them to get out and they scramble for their clothes. He mutters apologies when the polite side of his brain takes in the scandalized faces of the girl and boy as they make haste on their way out the door. Zayn, however, is still giggling, the weed taking its toll on him. And he’s now back to licking wide stripes on Liam’s back.   

When the room is empty and Zayn’s squirms are becoming too wild for Liam to withstand, his sets him on his feet and slams the door shut. Showing an unexpected burst of strength, Zayn forces Liam against said door and sinks to his knees. Now that they’re alone, Liam isn’t dense enough to deny Zayn what he wants, what they both want, really, and if that’s Liam’s cock in his mouth, fuck all, he’s alright with that.

He eases Liam out of his jeans for the second time that night and pulls his pants and boxers down only far enough to get his mouth around him comfortably. His fingers inch his shirt up to reveal the expanse of Liam’s lower belly, and he breathes a laugh into his skin while Liam trembles above him at the soft, tender kisses he places there. Usually the tease, Zayn forgoes the hesitant licks and swallows Liam down. His dick jumps at the vibrations of empty praise coming out of Zayn’s mouth with his plump lips ghosting over his length.

He looks up at Liam from under dark, inky eyelashes; things that Liam’s always found exquisite, always stopped to look at in the mornings, with the light casting shadows over the high rise of his cheekbones, mixed with the exotic tone of his skin.  He coerces a moan from Liam  with a bob of his head, tight heat engulfing him a little at a time, until Zayn’s bringing his hand up to jerk roughly at the unattended part of his dick.

He staggers at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of his throat, his hands seeking out Zayn’s shoulders to hold him up, them gripping his hair tightly when Zayn’s fingers dig into his ass, pushing him deeper into his mouth. He regains his footing only to lose it again when Zayn’s teeth make a barely-there scrape and he doesn’t pull away to soothe the pain quick enough, the drugs making him both slow and fast; aware but in a daze.

He relents and slides Liam out with a squelching pop and presses warm, wet lips to the light marks he left. He whispers apologies and takes him down again, working the head between his lips, smirking when Liam pants a mantra of his name at the sight of Zayn’s lips full and stretched; red and puffy with Liam’s cock inside.

He pulls back, a line of saliva the only thing connecting him to Liam and comes up to savor the tightening skin below his navel, nibbling and licking. He wets a finger in his mouth and travels back to Liam’s hole. Zayn’s back at his cock, bobbing furiously, one hand circling around Liam’s entrance and the other forcing his hips to thrust into Zayn’s awaiting mouth.

He feels his balls constrict and he knows he’ll be coming soon if Zayn keeps it up, and he wants to take Zayn to bed properly, not blow his load down his throat at the doorway.

He pushes Zayn back by his shoulders and chuckles adoringly when he whines at the loss of Liam from his mouth. He stands him up and kisses him, tasting himself on Zayn’s lips.

He turns the tables and presses Zayn into the door this time, working his shirt over his head and dipping to take a dark nipple into his mouth as Zayn breathes heavy into the air above him. He suckles the skin, teasing and pulling, shimmying Zayn out of his pants and boxers, and smiles satisfactorily at the whump of cotton hitting the floor behind him.

Zayn’s lids are fluttering shut, and his weight is against the wall, his knees straining under the pressure of his constant thrashing for the attention of Liam’s hands. His cock is throbbing, flush with desire, full against a dark patch of hair. His eyes open, wide and searching. He reaches blindly for Liam and places his hands on his body, not caring where they land.

He ghosts steady hands along his ribs, tracing over the tattoos there, following the spirals and lines wherever they lead. He knows he’s staring, he doesn’t care. Zayn is beautiful like this; pliant and lax, high from wisps of smoke that have made their way into his lungs, over sensitizing him. Liam’s caresses are barely there, faint and teasing at the soft skin of Zayn’s elbow, then joining his tongue at the pebbled skin near the buds of his nipple.

He feels the skin beneath him shake with the moans vibrating through Zayn’s chest.

“Fucking _do_ something.”

Liam rises to kiss his lips, chastely pecking them and laughing at his greedy hands, now roaming across Liam’s back. “You have a filthy mouth you’re wasted.”

Zayn’s hands dug into the back of his boxers again, nails scraping at the skin there and an idea sprouts in Liam’s mind. He grips Zayn’s hips and faces him toward the door, taking his hands and raising them to hold Zayn’s weight against the wood.

Similar to the way Zayn had earlier, Liam falls to his knees and peppers kisses up and down Zayn’s thighs. They shake under the attention, especially when Liam stretches him and circles his tongue around Zayn’s entrance, the pink flesh tightening, clenching at the phantom sensation of Liam’s touch. He lays his tongue flat and licks over it, then into it, fleetingly, just to hear Zayn whine and beg for more.

Zayn’s barely coherent, thrashing, pushing back into Liam. “No, no. _Jus—_ just get inside, Li.” Liam’s fingers press past the ring of muscle, taking their time, lubricated by the spit-slick ministrations of the strong muscle in Liam’s mouth. “I need _more,_ Liam.”

He scissors his fingers a while more, one than two, shushing Zayn with a soft hand at his thighs, his free fingers shaking under the vibration of Zayn’s tensing muscles. When he fits three fingers inside, moving them quickly, curling them to reach the spot that forces his name from Zayn’s tongue, his boyfriend is practically screeching, asking for Liam to give him what he wants so, so bad.

He stands and takes Zayn in his arms. Zayn obliges and drapes his arms around his shoulders, his hands clasp near the back of his neck and he yanks Liam forward. Their lips collide and Liam licks at the seal of Zayn’s mouth, sliding inside to allow Zayn to taste himself on his tongue; a mix of dark musk and something that could only be described as Zayn.

Zayn moves against him, throwing the entirety of his body into the kiss and Liam can feel his arousal hanging between the two of them. It’s time, he decides, to give Zayn what he’s been asking for. He himself doesn’t know if he can wait any longer, the constricting in his balls signaling to him that he needed to bury himself in Zayn soon.

He unwinds Zayn’s hands from his neck and starts to walk over to where Zayn’s pants are; knowing he’ll find a small packet of lube and a condom for his troubles. He gets as far as pulling the square packet of lube from between a picture of Harry and Niall before Zayn is on him again, pulling him back to the door.

“Zayn,” he says. “You have to let me get the condom first.”

Zayn shakes his head, stretching up to kiss him again. “I want to feel you,” he whispers, not giving Liam a chance to object before he pounces again, warm to the touch and buzzing with need in his arms.

“Baby, we need a condom.”

Zayn grabs the lube from his hands and rips it open, coating his fingers and sliding his hands over Liam’s erection, fisting his cock a little too tight and using the remainder to slather against his hole. He looks up at Liam. “I trust you, I do. _Just do it,_ Liam.” His fingers bend to reach his prostate and he yelps in Liam’s embrace. “I need you, now.”

His heart reels at the statement, that Zayn trusts him enough to let him make love to him sans a condom. It’s silly, he knows, but it makes his heart beat faster just the same. He tries to drag them to the bed, but Zayn still has a fixation with that damn door and he jerks himself backwards, lugging Liam with him. He’s wedged himself between Liam and the door and they way his eyes flicker over Liam’s body, from head to cock, is sinful in its purest nature.

“Right here, Liam.” Zayn’s thoughts seem to be with him again, his voice clear and unrestrained by moans of pleasure and screams of ecstasy, his smirk filthy and calculating. “I want it right here.”

“Let me get you to the bed and I can take care of you, Zayn.”

He huffs and his face falls into a look of aggravation. “I don’t want you to _make love_ to me.” He stands on the tips of his toes to reach Liam’s ear, taking no precautions in biting down hard enough to make him moan at the pain. “I want you to _fuck me_.”

“ _Zayn,_ ” he wheezes, gasping at the gentle licks that had replaced with the harsh indents of his teeth.

“ _Liam,_ ” he breathes, mocking the labored way the words had fallen from his mouth. “Stop being a little bitch.”

That spurs Liam, makes the blood under his skin boil. And Zayn knows it. Liam can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s aware he pushed Liam over the limit to get what he wants. Bastard. 

He grips the back of Zayn’s thighs and hoists him up, wrapping him around his waist and chuckling when they fall into the door. Liam worries when Zayn’s head bangs harshly against the wood, but Zayn smiles at him and licks his lips obscenely, dipping his head to worry at Liam’s neck, sucking bruises he knows will be there for the rest of the weekend.

He doesn’t waste time letting Zayn’s weight fall back into the door while he finds his hole and swirls a finger into the muscle to make sure he’s ready. He’s still tight, but Zayn’s impatient, so he makes quick work of opening him wider until he can fit four fingers inside with minimal resistance.

“I fuck— _I swear,_ Liam, if you don’t fuckin—”

Liam silences him with a hard jab of his fingers, rubbing his digit over his prostate. His muscles pull at the sudden use of energy and he’ll be feeling this all in the morning. He lines himself up with Zayn’s hole, feeling it clench and unclench, waiting for him to push his way inside. The head breaches through first, and for all Liam’s trouble of trying to ease his way in, Zayn releases his weight from the door and drops himself down on Liam’s cock, bottoming him out and moaning at the slap of his balls against Zayn’s ass.

Zayn’s hissing along with Liam’s thrusts, bouncing with him, pulling himself up and throwing his body down on to Liam. He pumps in a chaotic rhythm, moving Zayn’s hips to the best of his ability with a pair of hands to his waist. His lips utter Zayn’s name in time with their movement, both of them in a blind frenzy of bliss.

Zayn’s stretched his shirt to hell, tearing at the fabric, moving it over to hide his face in Liam’s neck and sink his teeth there. He bites and sucks as best as he can, springing up and down but trying to hold his head still enough to concentrate on bruising the skin under his mouth.

“Fuck,” Liam pants at the heat around his cock, milking him to his peak, “you feel so good.”

Zayn bites down and Liam hopes that wasn’t skin he hears breaking, but even if it is, he’s alright, it’s in the heart of the moment and it hurts, but it’s a pleasurable pain. “Harder,” Zayn commands, his nails marking the skin of Liam’s upper back.

And Liam wants to give in to his demands, but his arms are shaking enough as it is, and he can’t thrust any faster in this position. “I can’t,” he explains. “Not right here.”

He walks them to the bed with Zayn’s fucking himself on his dick, not needing Liam to pick him up and set him down. “Use those arms, baby,” he gasps. “Big and stron—”

“Can you stop talking like a fucking porn star so I can make it to the bed,” he snaps. “ _Shit,_ Zayn.”

He takes Zayn’s silence as confirmation and lays him down on the bed, slipping out of him. He sighs in relief at the lack of pressure on his biceps. He lays himself on top of Zayn and kisses him, swallowing his needy moans and wrapping a hand around him, his strokes fast and then lazy, moving in time with their kisses. Liam paces himself, licking lightly into Zayn’s mouth and barely stroking him.

The mood has changed from something rushed and messy to a more slow burn, lazy in the tangle of their tongues and sliding of their fingers. Liam can see Zayn coming down from his high, not sure if it’ll make him more tired or more alert. He gets an answer when Zayn snaps at him, shoving him away at arm’s length, meeting his eyes. “No, I thought we agreed on no love making. _God,_ ” he moans, his head falling into the covers, eyes shutting and opening again when Liam licks at his abdomen, “I hate that phrase.”

Liam ignores him and carries on, moving languidly, unwilling to rush this while he has Zayn so supple underneath him. He strays to his nipple, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth. He felt the pull of muscles under his tongue as Zayn’s head burrowed into the bed. Zayn held him there, and Liam scraped his teeth over him, leaving one nipple to give attention to the other.

He lifted so Zayn could strip him of his shirt and toss it to the side, claiming he wanted to feel Liam’s skin against his own. He pulls Liam up far enough to bite at his newly bare collarbones, and pushes him down again so he can continue, content with a small taste.

He kisses the downy hair on Zayn’s thighs, roaming over them with his hands and frowning when he feels small abrasions on the back of his legs. He raises his leg to inspect and finds marks that he’s certain would match up to his zipper in the expanse of the exposed skin.

Zayn senses his concern and rubs a thumb across his light hairs of his brow. “It was hot,” he says, lifting Liam up to him and smoothing his hands over his back, reassuring him with gentle kisses to his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”

His hand moves over the barren skin of Liam’s face. “I miss the scruff.”

He threads his hands in Zayn’s hair, and lets his lips ghost over his skin. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “it was getting too long.”

“Bring it back.”

Liam laughs at the pout in his voice. “Okay.”

Zayn smiles at him, unknowingly lighting up his whole world with the lift of one side of his face, his teeth on display, his eyes shining, much like they always do when they’re focused on Liam. “Now fuck me, make love to me— _fuck that’s the corniest shit ever—_ but do _something,_ before my dick falls off.” He’s forceful now, needy; hands unable to stay still. “And _soon._ ”

 “I just want to take care of you,” he mumbles into his stomach. “’S all.”

“Tha _-uh-_ that’s sweet, but I’m horny as fu- _fuck_.” His voice stumbled over the words, staggered due to Liam’s lips traveling to the head of his cock, hollowing his cheeks and letting the head reach the back of his throat.

He checks to make sure Zayn is still loose enough from before and grazes a fingernail around his entrance. He moves up to Zayn’s neck and whispers his reassurances at the older boy’s desperate groans. He sits up the slightest bit and lines his cock up. Zayn’s legs wrap themselves around him and he uses the balls of his feet to push Liam inside.  

He pumps recklessly at first, failing to find his balance, but then he leans back all the way on his calves, his knees dig themselves deep into the mattress. Zayn’s a mess; his bottom lip’s drawn into his mouth, teeth tearing into skin. He moves to unhook it, kissing his lips instead, moving into him. His thrusts are stronger now, but Zayn’s already begging for more, harder.

“ _Deeper._ ”

“Move you leg up.”

He stops to stretch Zayn and push him to his extent, hooking his knee over Liam’s shoulder and changing the position. He whimpers at the new pressure around his cock, tighter than before. He hammers harder, his hips snapping to meet Zayn’s until nonsense phrases are tumbling from his mouth, filling the room.

“Fuck, _fuck._ God, that’s it. Li, _Liam._ _Baby._ ”

He’s dirty, absolutely filthy, calling out Liam’s name at an obscene volume; eyes shut and lip sucked back into his mouth. Liam’s hands make their way to either side of Zayn’s head and he steadies himself, apologizing for the intense pull of Zayn’s leg muscle, still hooked over his shoulder as Liam repositions himself to finish.

There’s a gritty-sweet friction as he braces himself above Zayn and lets a string of filth pour from his mouth, slamming his hips into Zayn’s prostate, listening to him fall apart as Liam works him over. Zayn’s fingers come around to pinch at a nipple, causing Liam to stutter in his movement, but pound with determination at the shouts of ecstasy coming from Zayn’s parted lips.

“Feels so good, right there. _Right there._ I love you _. I love you, Li. Fuck._ Again.”

Those words. There they are in the middle of Liam’s thrust, just as he pulls out as far as he can, where the head is catching at the rim of Zayn’s entrance before he breaches him and slams in again, spurred by the words, letting go and pulsing into Zayn, his heat milking him as he squeezes down and comes between them two strokes later.

He doesn’t collapse, but he does lie down, gathering Zayn in his arms, kissing his hair and smoothing his hands along his back.

“Fuck,” Zayn breathes, the word ragged and caught in the trap of his dry throat. “ _Fuck,_ that was good.”

Liam agrees and scoots down; moving onto his back so Zayn can blanket himself on top of him. He smiles at the squelch of his cum still in Zayn and laughs at the grimace on his baby’s face. He holds a finger to Zayn’s lips when he opens his mouth to speak.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me get a condom.”

His nose scrunches in disgust, not at the idea, but maybe just the feeling. Liam can’t say, he’s never been full of someone else’s jizz before. He figures it sounds good in theory, but it’s most likely a tad uncomfortable once the buzz wears off. “I just want to sleep,” Zayn says, sighing into Liam’s chest and burrowing his head there, nuzzling into the hand Liam has combing through his hair.

“There’s a party downstairs.”

“It’ll be there when I wake up,” he mumbles. “Now shut up and cuddle me.”

He pulls the covers over both of them, trying to avoid what he knows is a sticky spot. He moves Zayn back to his side, seeing as this isn’t Harry’s couch and they do have the room to spread out, just a little.

“I love you,” he whispers, closing his eyes and pulling Zayn closer still, their bodies flush under the covers. “I love you so much.”

And they fall asleep.

 

**/////**

 

He opens his eyes some time later to the sound of feet padding on the floor and a cold draft flowing into the empty space beside him. Liam rolls over to where Zayn should have been, frowning at the lack of warm and cuddly smiles he’s used to waking to. He sits up and scratches his nails along his stomach and cringes at the dry cum resting there. He sees Zayn coming back to bed with a wash rag, wet from the sink.

“I’m hungry, feed me.” He runs the cloth over Liam’s torso, and gathers up any stray mess that he was responsible for shooting off earlier, scrubbing gently.

Liam leans forward for a kiss. He pulls back and takes in the mess of Zayn’s hair and the lines hardened into his face from sleep. “I can be hard in five minutes, if—“

Zayn shoves at his shoulder, laughing. “Not for that, perv. I want shitty party food.” He scoots Liam back into the headboard and clambers between his legs, reclining into his chest and wrapping Liam’s arm around his middle. “I’m still tired.”

He presses his lips into Zayn’s hair. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

Zayn sighs and joins their hands, stretching Liam’s palm and tracing his fingertips over his knuckles. “Harry came up here just a minute ago.” He must have been who woke Zayn up. “They’re doing some shit karaoke competition for the master bedroom, which is the one we’re in.” He leans his head back to kiss under Liam’s chin. “And I want this fucking room, so let’s go.”

He hops up fast. His boxers are already around his waist and he jumps to fit his jeans over his hips. Liam follows, tugging his shirt over his head and swatting Zayn’s hands when he makes a reach for his bum. When he’s fully clothed, he walks to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He returns with Zayn waiting at the door and their hands twine together on their way down the stairs.

It’s late, but early enough for people to still be staggering around with half-empty cups and drunken dance partners. Most of the party-goers have made their way home for the night, planning on returning the next evening and the one after that. Only a handful of people were invited to stay the complete duration of the weekend, thank God. Liam doesn’t think he could stand everyone vying for space the next couple of nights.

They come down the stairs to see Samantha on Niall’s lap with a cheap microphone in hand. Her voice is blasting through a small set of speakers atop the coffee table. Grimmy is perched in Finchy’s lap, drink in hand. Louis is the one who notices them first, jabbing Harry with his elbow from their shared place in a chair.

“Woah,” Harry calls. “The golden couple has arrived!”

Zayn takes a seat on the couch, shoving Grimmy’s legs to the side. “Shut up, the lot of you.”

“Harder, Liam! _Harder!_ ” Liam relaxes on the arm of the couch and reaches down to tangle his fingers with Zayn’s, reassuringly stroking his thumb over his hand, leaning to kiss the side of his flushed cheeks.

Zayn narrows his eyes in Louis’ direction. “I don’t even sound like that.”

Niall looks up from Samantha’s cleavage, where his eyes have been intensely focused for the duration of her seductive performance. “But you do, mate.”

Liam chuckles at Zayn’s answering middle finger and leaves them in search of food. He finds platters in the refrigerator, full of tiny finger-sandwiches and rolled up lunch meat. Shrugging he finds a paper plate and fits as many snacks on it as he possibly can, throwing in a pile of crisps he finds in the pantry and pouring Zayn a cold glass of soda. It’ll be a nice alternative to the booze he was downing before.

He moves around a crowd of noisy girls downing shots in the dining room and follows the sound of Louis’ voice, now rolling through the house. He walks into the living room to see his best mate of the table, serenading Harry with Sam’s microphone. Liam laughs at his antics and hands Zayn his plate. He accepts a kiss and a swift pat to the ass for his efforts while he makes Zayn get up to allow room for him.

“Thanks,” he says, shoving an entire miniature sandwich into his mouth and smiling around his puffy cheeks.

“It’s the least I can do after I tired you out.”

Zayn snorts. “Giving yourself a lot of credit, huh?”

He slides a hand up Zayn’s leg. “We can go back upstairs if you want me to prove my point.”

Louis is hollering now, trying to make Harry smile and succeeding. The two of them are stuck in a bubble of happiness that Liam hopes no one ever pops, not tonight at least. Lou is laughing, barely singing into the mic anymore, and ignoring anything that isn’t directly related to the boy in front of him. Liam rolls his eyes and looks back to Zayn, who’s got his own eyes on Liam, mouth still full.

“Why not right here,” he says after he swallows, rubbing his hand distractingly close to Liam’s crotch.

Matt slaps at his hands. “I can think of plenty of reasons not to do it right here,” he snaps, pulling Zayn’s hands out of Liam’s lap. “One is me going blind.”

“Do it,” Grimmy urges, “I’ll watch.”

Niall yells at him from the love seat. “Grim, you’re disgusting.”

Liam just sits back and tugs Zayn into his space, resting an arm around his shoulders and stealing a crisp from his plate. This karaoke competition is mostly a ploy for Grimmy to see them all act like fools. He’ll probably just claim the room for himself. Either way, Louis is giving it his all, flailing around, singing to the best of his ability under the influence. He’s moved on from Harry, to every other member of their group, even stopping at a girl Liam doesn’t know and singing loudly in her face. When he reaches their side of the table, Liam stands up and plops him back on top of his rightful platform.

He loves the attention, Liam can tell. His cheeks are glowing from more than the alcohol; he knows that performing has always been Louis’ strong suit. He’s had a lot of practice between the brave face he used to paint on for his parents and the act he puts on for them now. Liam can relate in that aspect, although he doesn’t get near as much of a thrill out of it as Louis does, but he still knows what it feels like nonetheless.

Thankfully the last notes of the song start to play and Louis is passing the microphone off to someone else. His eyes are squeezed shut due to his drunken giggles and he makes his way into Harry’s lap. Zayn’s taking a bite out of a rolled up piece of bologna and Liam sees Niall take a sip of his drink when it happens.

“Man,” Harry laughs, catching Louis when he falls into his lap, “I love you.”

Niall sprays liquid everywhere and Zayn drops his lunch meat. Fate would take that exact moment to pull all the noise from the room when the words fall out of Harry’s mouth. Everyone stays silent. 

_I love you._

“What did you just say?” Liam tenses at the tone of Louis’ voice. To anyone who didn’t know, they’d think his tone was cold and distant. But Liam knew the shake in those words; he was familiar with the cracking hidden in the syllables. Louis was freaking out. He was scared.

Maybe Harry knew how to handle this. After all this time, surely he’s had to break past some of Louis’ defenses. If that was true, he should know how to dismantle the ticking time bomb of Louis’ flood of emotions.

“I-I just—I just meant—Louis, I’m sorry.”

Or maybe not.

Zayn gives him a worried look and cues him to do something. He doesn’t know if he should tell Louis to suck it up and brush it off or carry him away before he becomes a mess of sloppy-drunk venting. Louis makes the choice for him, though. He climbs silently out of Harry’s lap and walks in a zombie-like state over to Liam and digs his keys from his pocket. He drops the keys in Liam’s lap.

“Take me home, please,” he asks, small and quiet.

“Lou, calm down.”

No one moves behind him, not Harry, not Niall, not even Grimmy. “Li, I’m too drunk to drive, but I want to go home.”

He would have protested. He would have told Louis no, simply marched him upstairs and tucked him under the covers until the next morning when he was feeling clear-headed and he could deal with this like the adult he was. He would have done all of that if it wasn’t for the wet of his eyes, the shine of tears in his best mate’s eyes as he locked gazes with Liam and begged him to take him away from this. Liam sighed. He was always running.

He kisses Zayn on the nose and stands up, apologizing to him and pulling Louis out of the room, away from the deafening silence. He knows if he looks back at Zayn, who’s calling him, that he’ll stay. So he walks, gently guiding Louis through the house.

Zayn’s voice cuts through the air, sneaking up on him. “Liam.”

Liam stops but Louis walks himself on to the door. He turns. “Zayn, I have to go, alright?”

“Let him go upstairs.”

“He wants to go home.”

Zayn’s finds his shoulders and his hands cup Liam’s face. “I don’t know why he can’t talk to Harry about this.” Liam’s hands cover Zayn’s. “I want you to stay.”

He wants to stay, too. God, does he ever. But this is Louis. This is his best mate and Liam knows how scary this for him. He’s aware of how much of a shock Louis is about to go through, from admitting you feel something other than hatred for someone to realizing you love them. If Liam knew anything it was that not only did Harry love Louis, but Louis loved him back. Louis just couldn’t sort those feelings out properly, and he needed someone who would understand. A rock.

Liam has been and always will be that rock.

“He’s just… He’s scared. I’m gonna take him home and let him sleep it off, we’ll probably be back in the morning.” Liam smiles at Zayn and brings their lips together. “I love you,” he whispers, “but I have to go.”

Zayn snatches his hands from Liam’s face and backs away. “Whatever.”

Liam catches him by the wrist and steps back into his space. “Hey,” he reasons. “Don’t be mad.”

His eyebrows furrow and the lines in his forehead crease irritably. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Don’t be mad at Lou, he just needs time.”

“What about what Harry needs.”

Liam doesn’t like the stomp of his foot or the hard curving of his words. He lets go of Zayn. “I’m sure he needs a friend right now, too.” He wrings his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Zayn. He wants to go home.”

Zayn’s hands point to the direction Louis had gone. “Stop babying him! Make him deal with this.”

Liam doesn’t like being yelled at like a child, especially not for something that wasn’t his doing. He shook his head, walking away before Zayn gets even more riled up on Harry’s behalf and Liam snaps in defense of Louis.

“I’ve got to go,” he calls over his shoulder, sad that he has to leave it like this, but he’s secure enough in his relationship to know that all this is, is a pretty tiff and they’ll make up when Liam comes back, with or without Louis.

“Fine.”

-

He finds Louis in the front yard, and he groans when he has to sneak into the backyard to reach the private garage they parked in. He leaves Louis in the yard and goes to retrieve the car.

Thankfully, Grimmy is useful for more than good booze and a nice party and Liam vows to thank him when he sees he left the garage door open. He pulls around front and gets out to gather Louis, scared when he sees he’s collapsed in the grass.

“Lou,” he says, picking him up by his arms, carting him off, stopping abruptly when he notices the tears falling from his cheeks. Poor kid.

“Why did he have to ruin everything,” he sobs, shoulders shaking, his breath reeking of wine and alcohol. Liam’s seen Louis cry several times, but never like this, never completely broken.

He crowds him into a hug, enveloping his small from with Liam’s taller one. He rubs his hands down his back, trying to calm his incoherent blubbering. “I don’t know, babe.” He directs them to the car. “Let’s get you home, alright? It’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your time,” he cries, walking slowly where Liam leads him.

And how can he stay mad at that, ever? Underneath that cold exterior was his best friend and how could he ever turn his back on that?

“Don’t apologize for anything, you’re fine. Get in the car.”

Louis does as he’s told and folds himself into the seat and gingerly closes the door. He’s walking around to the passenger seat when his name is yelled over the remnants of people mulling around the yard.

He looks to see Zayn running up to him. Liam folds his arms and leans his back on the side of the car. Zayn stops in front of him and stands awkwardly before him, then says “Fuck it,” and plants his lips against Liam’s.

He lets Liam’s hands hold his hips. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, explaining himself. “I don’t want you to go, but I understand. I do. If that was Harry, or Ni I would be the same way. Even Grim, the sappy bastard.”

And like that, his annoyance towards Zayn had disappeared. That was what scared him before, maybe even now, still. The effect that someone else has on the things you feel. That was what Louis was dealing with, what Liam had gone through the first time the thought passed through his mind. He loved Zayn and that had power over him. Someone else besides himself now influenced every part of him.

He’s never done this before, he’s jumping in feet first and so far it’s worth it. He knows Zayn is worth the risk.

“I love you,” he says, dropping his head down to connect his forehead with Zayn’s. He looked into his eyes, seeing the love and consideration burning bright. “I love you,” he repeats, “but I have to go.”

“I know,” he replies, eyes shutting, breathing in the cool air and fisting his hands in the fabric of Liam’s shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I can try my best, but he probably won’t want to come back, and I’m not leaving him alone.”

Zayn opens his eyes and smiles; a private smile, small and just for the two of them. “Again with the fucking saint behavior.”

“You love it.”

He shakes his head minutely, unwilling to jostle the serene atmosphere around them. “No, I love _you._ ” He kisses him once more, holding his face again and taking his time. The kiss is deep, it’s one with meaning. Liam never knew kissing could be so good when it was with someone you wanted to share everything with, someone who held more than your attraction.

“Go,” he prompts, removing himself from Liam’s grasp and walking back to the house.

“I love you,” Liam shouts at him.

“I know,” Zayn yells back.

Liam gets in the car and turns on some soothing music to calm Louis’ fading whimpers. He pulls out of the yard and begins to make the long trip home. He rolls the window down and lets the wind from the night dry the tears streaking down Lou’s face.

He feels bad, he does, but the entire duration of the drive home the smile from Zayn’s words never fades once.

 _I love you_ , what a cataclysmic phrase, in the way that it can build a person up to their strongest, making them strive for a higher form of being, also in the way that it can cap your knees, break you down to the lowest version of yourself and fill your eyes with tears and your heart with doubt.

 

**/////**

On the drive to Louis’ home, he sends up a silent prayer that Jay and Tommo will either be gone or asleep. He considers taking him to Liam’s house, but he knows Geoff has a conference call in the morning and they’ll run into him eventually if they clamber inside and set off the alarm. The Tomlinson’s stopped setting the alarm when Lottie was born, she was persistent as a child to manipulate the trip-off and it became more of a hassle than a concern.

Louis was asleep at his side, his face caked with the evidence of his distress. It’d been a hard trip to make with no one to talk to and the radio didn’t suffice at this time of night. He drove up the Tomlinson’s drive way and parked behind Tommo’s car. Liam curses when he sees the light shining from what he thinks may be the dining room. Either he’ll have to pay one of Lou’s sisters off with candy and a promise of a spree at the mall or he’ll be busy explaining why his faux romantic weekend with Jay’s son was cut short.

He grumbled when he shook Louis awake and shouldered most of his weight on their way to the door. Both of their suitcases lie forgotten somewhere in Grimmy’s cabin and he’d have to make a trek back out there or have someone bring them to him on Sunday night. With all his spare clothes packed away an hour’s drive in the other direction, he’d have to make do with the extra clothes he had here.

Louis’ ever-present chatter was absent. He unlocked the front door with no trouble, but internally groaned at the sight of Louis’ mum sitting at the table, papers spread around her. He kept his mouth shut at her speculating gaze and moved Louis past her.

“I thought you two were going away,” she says, quiet enough not to wake the rest of the house, but bold enough to allow Liam to hear her.

He debates on spinning a tale, but decides against it when the boy in his arms sniffles. Louis is his priority. He settles for telling her, “It’s a long story, Jay, and I honestly don’t feel like going through this shit with you.”

“You were with those boys again, weren’t you,” she accuses.

His shoulders heave in a sigh of frustration and he doesn’t bother stopping to answer her lingering question. He walks Louis up the stairs and lets his eyes roll in the darkness when he hears the scrape of the chair across the kitchen tile and then the padding of footsteps hot on their trail.

He tries not to let bile rise in his throat at the bogus etching of concern in her face once they arrive at the doorway to Louis’ room.

She was responsible for this, her and her husband. If she only told her son she loved him, that she appreciated him, he wouldn’t shut down when the words were bestowed upon him by someone else. It wouldn’t send him in to shock at the prospect of him being good enough to earn that level of care from another human being.

She opened her mouth to speak and Liam swung the door shut in her face, clicking the lock in place and sending Louis off to the shower. He notices his mate staring blankly into space and he springs into action. There is no way he’s letting Louis crash as soon as possible, only to wake up and push this to the back of his thoughts and never speak of it again. No, Liam would put him in the shower, sober him up and let whatever should happen, happen.

Jay was still talking incessantly through the door, a steady buzz of threats flowing free from her mouth. Still ignoring her, he helped Louis disrobe, taking off his jacket, then his shirt, his pants and shoes next. He led him to the shower, bare sans for a tight pair of boxer briefs. He went ahead of him and turned on the water. Liam turned the dials, making the shower as warm as possible and dragged Louis into the porcelain stall.

“Shower, alright,” he spoke, keeping his voice low and concerned. “I’ll be here when you get out, Lou.” He scratched his fingers gently over Louis’ scalp. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His heart broke when Louis simply nodded and utter his thanks under his breath. Liam left him to his devices and returned to the bedroom. He collapsed on the duvet and closed his eyes, reeling at the events of tonight. A smile was brought to his face at the passing thought of Zayn, but his grin was quickly traded for a frown when Jay pounded on the door, hoping to get his attention and bringing the reason he had to haul Louis home to the forefront of his mind.

“I thought I told you to be careful,” she droned. Her voice was scratchy, illustrating the reaching of her limit with the theatrics Liam and Louis were known to pull. “I was trying to be nice, but if my son is coming home drugged out, I won’t have it.”

Liam huffed at the suggestion that a substance had compelled Louis behave like so. It was just like her to shift the blame on anyone other than herself.

“I know it’s not weed making him like that,” she whisper-shouts. “No more of those two. I don’t want you around them if it’s going to turn my son into a _drug addict._ ” Liam laughs to himself. She spits the allegation as if she was unaware of the both of them passing around a bowl or more in her presence. _‘Weed, but nothing stronger,_ ’ she says, pretending she has ever had any part in attempting to put a stop to any of Louis’ illegal routines.

Liam stands and stalks to the door, his irritation trouncing his self-preservation.

“If I find out you’re with them, I’ll—”

He opens the door abruptly, rattling her stern composure. “You’ll what,” he insists. His face is red, the chaos of the night rearing to a head. He stares her down, not retreating at the beady slits of her eyes or the pensive placement of her hands on her hips. “You’ll ground us? Take away our phones? Send us to boarding school?”

“Why do you care,” he continues, voice rising and energy shrinking. He fights a yawn in between his words. “Do you not have enough security in your marriage to let your husband know your reach doesn’t extend as far as you’d like him to think it does?” He’s mad now, angry that she can stand there and yell at him for something she programmed to happen early in Louis life; his downfall. “I had to leave my boyfriend at a party so my best friend could come home and cry in the shower, only because you’ve tried to make him into some fucked up version of yourse—”

“I am doing no such thing.”

Unbelievable.

“You know what,” he says, holding his hands up in defeat. “I’m not in the mood for this right now. Just leave before he gets out of the shower.”

“Liam, we’re not done ta—”

He shuts the door and adjusts the stereo in the corner of Louis’ room, turning the volume up to a decibel that drowns out her voice.

He reclines on Louis’ bed, ignoring the muffled shouts coming through the door. Liam is aware of what she was going to say. _We’re not done talking_. But they are, he thinks.

Liam is more than done with the exploits of Jay Tomlinson.

 

**/////**

 

He wakes for a second time that night, or, he checks the time on the bright screen of his phone, that morning. It’s three in the morning. Liam’s sleep schedule is going to be dreadfully screwed up due to inconsistency. He really wishes Niall was here to roll him up a joint, maybe let him forget things for a while.

The room is dark and Liam fishes his cell out again and checks for any texts. He smiles at the sound of Zayn’s voice in his ear when he plays back the messages on his voicemail.

“I miss you already. You’re turning me into a needy boyfriend, Liam. That’s not cool. These people are boring,” he says, “I—I just hope your mate’s okay, cause I want to go to sleep with yo—“

“Zayn get off the phone!”

“Shut up, Niall! I’m trying to leave a messa—“

“Oh, Liam _, I miss your smile._ Liam, I miss your _laugh._ Liam, I miss your _di—_ “

“Leave my poor baby alone.”

“Grimmy, get off of me—Liam, babe, I have to go. Lov— _Matt,_ get your boy! Liam, I love you. Bye.”

There were various versions of the same message, he saved them all.

Liam’s eyes strain in the dark to find Louis, but he’s no where to be found in the confines of his room. He sees the faint glow of light shining under the door leading to his bathroom and groggily stumbles toward it.

“Lou,” he questions. “You in there?”

He’s met with silence.

Liam jiggles the door handle, thankfully finding it unlocked. He pushes his way in to the sight of Louis in a fresh pair of briefs; face clear of emotion and hair free of product. He looks so small, and a bit fragile. Liam walks behind him, catching his eye in the steamed reflection of the mirror. The bathroom sink is crowded and he makes room for himself and sits gingerly on the surface.

Liam waits for Louis to speak, but that doesn’t come soon enough for his liking. He just stands there, eyes squeezed into slits, glaring at himself in the dim lighting. It’s sort of creepy, but Liam keeps himself from commenting.

“What do you see, Liam,” he asks softly.

“What?”

Louis repeats himself, his lips drawn tight with determination. “What do you see? In the mirror, what do you see?”

Liam turns the top half of his body, imitating Louis and looking hard into the mirror. He fails to see the anything with much importance. The meaning of life is not held in the perimeters of the glass, neither is the solution to the economy crisis or the answer to world hunger. But he doesn’t think those are the answers Louis was looking for to begin with, so he holds his tongue.

His hand reaches out for Louis’, taking it and stroking his thumb across his knuckles with the fondness of an old pal. Liam meets his eyes in the glass. “I see two best friends.” His smile is watery; he feels a pinch of sentimentality witnessing Louis like this, scared like they were kids again and Nicola had just recounted a horrifying tale of fire-breathing dragons and ghosts. Only now, his oldest friend’s greatest fear was being slain by abandonment and spooked by the weight of a curly-haired boy’s affection.

“We’re kind of fucked up,” he admits, glad to see Louis’ chuckle along with him. “But we’re making it. I see myself, nothing really new except for the smile on my face. And I see you, not using that mouth for it’s, uh… proper purposes.”

Louis glares at him and lets his eyes roll at Liam’s unfruitful attempt at a joke. “I don’t know if you just said I give good head or I have a nice smile.”

He kicks out and his foot connects with Louis’ shin. “The smile, silly. I hate seeing you sad. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” he defends, too eagerly to be believable. He tries again, slower this time, more in control of his voice. “I am happy, I am.”

“You’re happy with Harry. Lou, you’ve happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

Liam can almost see the resolve in Louis face break. He flails his hands, taking the dramatic route, but Liam lets it happen. If this is the only way Liam can get him to let everything out, he’ll take it. “I don’t want to depend on someone else to be happy. What if he leaves? Where does that leave me?”

“Let him be the first thing that makes you happy. The rest will come, Lou. You just have to let him in.”

Louis looks confused. “Why? It makes me feel like shit, Liam. Why would I want to feel like this all the time? That’s rubbish.”

“You’re fighting it, that’s why it sucks. I know you want it,” he says. “I know you do.”

He shakes his head at Liam. “You can’t know that.”

“I can. I used to be in the same place.”

Louis huffs in exasperation. “That’s _hardly_ the same. You’ve been in love with Zayn since you met him.”

“I think you’ve been in love with Harry for the same amount of time,” he counters.

The anger drains out of his face and is replaced with a look of absentmindedness, his mouth frowning and the lines in his forehead crinkling with something Liam doesn’t quite recognize and —

Louis tries to kiss him. Full on, leaning forward, eyes closed and mouth slightly puckered. Liam pushes him back gently with a firm hand to his shoulder. The mood has changed, once quiet and contemplating, now nervous and loud.

“What are you _doing?!_ ”

“Why does it have to be them,” he yells, voice wavering. Liam knows that Louis is aware that this is wrong, this isn’t what he really wants, but he keeps yelling all the same. “Why can’t it be just me and you, like we used to be?”

“Louis, I love you. And I know you love me, too, and I know it’s not like that.” Liam does pull Louis close, if for no reason but to show him that he’s not angry at him, just concerned. “I know you’re sorting through this thing with Harry and you know I love Zayn.”

Louis hugs him back distractedly and plays with the small tear in the leg of Liam’s jeans. “It used to be just me and you. What happened, Li?”

“We got boyfriends, I guess.”

“Harry isn’t my fucking boyfriend,” he says, protesting without much effort. At this point, Liam isn’t entirely certain Louis believes the words when he speaks them anymore.

Liam rubs his back, scared if he lets go Louis will start sobbing again, and he’s not sure he can handle that for a third time tonight. “He watches Gossip Girl with you. And I know you made him go with you to see the new Nicolas Sparks movie. He cleans up your fucking throw-up when you drink too much and he’s gone to every club I specifically remember refusing to be brought to.” He grins. “That’s the definition of a boyfriend, Lou.”

He’s still glaring, but it’s half-hearted and Liam can see the hint of a smile. “He only has to do those things because you’ve been a terrible best friend lately.”

“Hey, I’m trying to make up for it now.”

He playfully shoves his way out of Liam’s hold and walks into his bedroom, escaping to his closet and coming out in a comfortable pair of pajama bottoms and a sweater Liam knows belongs to Harry. He sits on the bed and pats the covers, motioning for Liam to come rest beside him.

Liam spreads out and looks up at the ceiling.

“You know you don’t have to pick up the pieces every time I react stupidly to shit.” Louis laughs cynically, bringing a darker tone to their on-going conversation. “You can tell me no. He’s just a boy. I’m fine, or I will be. Whatever.”

He sits up at that, gawking at Louis disbelievingly. How could he diminish all the ground they’d conquered not sixty seconds ago.

“Stop doing that.” Louis opens his mouth to ask what he’s doing or to let out another smart ass, back-handed insult to himself or to Harry but Liam doesn’t let him do that.

He silences Louis with a wave of his hand. “Stop belittling what you and Harry have. Stop trying to make it seem unimportant. He said he loves you, it just slipped out, okay? Stop making everything his fault Louis.”

He takes a deep breath, quirking his head, questioning the decisions Louis’ been making, why he constantly puts himself through this, knowing it could just be stopped if he allowed himself to have this one thing. Like Liam had. Why let his mum or his dad or whatever else have such a hold on him?

Why not be free? Why not fall? Why not let Harry catch him?

“Is it really so bad that someone loves you?”

Louis doesn’t answer, so Liam persists. “Let him love you, Lou. He’s a nice guy, he really is. He’s cheeky and his hair is just too much for me b—but guys like us don’t get chances like this. We don’t get Zayn’s and Harry’s. We get clones of our parents. Those people don’t want us to be happy. They don’t care about us. No one thinks we have it in us to hold on to this.”

He grabs Louis’ hand. “Let’s prove them wrong, hm? Prove them wrong, Louis.”

“What if I love him back, what do I do?”

“You tell him.”

“What if it was an accident? What if he didn’t mean to say it, and I say it first and it screws everything up?”

“Then I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces.”

“What if my dad finds out?”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“What if Harry leaves when he finds out how horrible I am?”

“Babe, if he hasn’t already noticed how much of a pain in the ass you are, I’m genuinely worried about him.”

“Liam?”

“Yes, Lou?”

“Will you watch Goss—“

“No.”

“I definitely love Harry better than you.”

Liam laughs and tucks his head into the pillow, closing his eyes for what he hopes is the last time that night. “I’m glad to hear it, mate.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what'cha think! xx :D


	7. I Don't Want To Lose You Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i kind of hate this because i like happy things but it was in my notes for the plot and the ending hinges on this, so here it is. my apologies if you hate it or something
> 
> but even if you do, tell me what you think. good or bad, i like to hear if you guys like the direction things head in
> 
> also in haste to get this up, i dont have it beta'd so it might suck? ihope you enjoy

“Hurry up, Lou.”

Liam pounded his fists on the door a couple more times. He’s standing around in his boxers because he left his jeans in the bathroom when he got out of the shower. At the moment, Louis was taking his time, deliberately trying to drag out the process of doing his hair, and putting on his clothes. Liam couldn’t decipher what had gotten into him; cold feet, he assumed. It was just like him to change his mind at the drop of a pin, but Liam didn’t garner it too serious to fret about.

“This is a big day for me,” Louis says through the door. “And my hair won’t cooperate. Not to mention my best trousers are in that damn suitcase.”

“It’s your fault for packing every pair of pants you own in that thing.”

Liam sat on the bed and checked his phone for messages. Zayn had texted him earlier, when the sun was still to bright for Liam and Louis’ hangover had reared it’s head for the both of them to deal with, seeing as Liam was an excellent friend and Louis was a big baby. Liam told him they would be leaving for the cabin at around six, the reason being that they’d gotten a late start and hadn’t rolled out of bed until late in the afternoon. Zayn had sent a cheeky text back, saying he had a surprise for Liam. He was excited, to say the least. Now if he could only get Louis to come out from hiding.

“It was only eight pairs,” Louis informs him.

“I thought it was five.”

Liam can hear him sigh through the thick wood of the door. “You were out of the room and I couldn’t decide between white, salmon, teal and tangerine…”

“So you shoved them all in the bag,” Liam finishes. He shouldn’t be nearly as surprised as he is, Louis is always going overboard where clothes are concerned. The extra add-on to his closet speaks for itself.

“I did not stuff them in there,” he huffs at Liam. “Do you know what creases will do to a pair of skinny capris—?”

Liam gets up from the bed and travels over to Louis’ closet. “No, and I don’t care,” he says, rifling through Louis’ closet for any pair of pants he could have left over here, that weren’t already in the suitcase an hour out of town or in the bathroom with Louis. “Just come out of the bathroom.”

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he notices a pair of jeans that are a little out of date, but he thinks they should fit. He takes them to Louis’ room and tosses them on the bed, going back to the door to plead with Louis.

“What if Harry—”

“Stop,” Liam cuts in, “We talked about this; you’re going to be fine.”

Louis voice is high pitched and a bit on the whiny side. Liam can hear him rattling around in there, messing with different bottles of hair products and repeatedly splashing water on his face. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

He scoffs. “How?”

Liam smiles as he remembers the first time he told Zayn he loved him, it wasn’t too long ago, but it seemed like ages ago now. He felt like he’s loved Zayn for as long as he could remember, even if it was only several months ago that he turned around in class to see that stubbled chin and those dark eyes, sprinkling with mischief and interest.

He can distinctly recall the way the nerves jumbled up his process of speech and thought, how they made him question things that were so silly in their level of concern. “Because you feel like shit right now,” he says, leaning against the door with his shoulder, “but I promise once you see him; once his face lights up when he sees you and he hugs you and kisses you, and tells you how glad he is that you’re back, all your doubts will be gone.”

The beginning of Louis response is drowned to by the sound of The Tomlinson’s obnoxious doorbell, but Liam manages to catch the end of it. “—ridiculous. This isn’t The Last Song, Liam.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he admits. “And I don’t care. Come out of the fucking bathroom or I’ll bring him here and you can make a fool out of yourself on his terms.”

Liam walks over to pick up the towel he was using earlier to dry out his hair. He’s obviously not going to get a chance to fix it, so he’ll have to make do with what he has.

“You took the last towel. I’m not coming out stark naked.”

Liam laughs, towel him hair and reaching for his trousers. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Nothing you’re ever supposed to see again,” Louis says, twisting the doorknob.

“That’s not what you were saying last night—”

Three things happen next. Louis walks out of the bathroom; naked as the day he was born, as promised. Liam steps into his jeans, getting them up his hips. And the bedroom door, leading out to the hallway bursts open to reveal a giggling Grimmy and Zayn, with a reluctant Harry behind them.

“I can’t believe I tried to kiss you last night,” Louis says with his attention fixed on brushing the water off of the trail of hair on his stomach, not yet looking up. “I mean, I already knew you were a terrible lay. What was I thinking?”

At the same time, Grimmy and Zayn jump into the room and yell, “Surprise!”

Although, Grimmy’s voice dies in his throat as he takes in the situation and Liam’s eyes go wide as Zayn looks between him and Louis and his smile fades.

Now alert, Louis dives for Liam’s discarded towel and the room goes silent.

Liam speaks first. “Zayn, baby, what are you doing here?”

Still in shock, Zayn’s eyes continue to flicker back and forth between Liam and Louis. “Harry wanted to come and work things out with Louis—”

Cutting in, attempting to alleviate some of the tension in the air, Liam rushed forward to back them out of the room and into the hallway, so Louis could put some clothes on and get his bearings together. “That’s great! Me and Lou were about to drive out there!”

But Harry is too quick for him, as is Zayn and they weave his attempts to move them along and step farther into the room, towards Louis; who’s standing frozen in the middle of the room with a towel haphazardly thrown around his waist.

“You made a pass at Liam?” Harry asks the question low. Liam winces at the harsh rasp in his throat; one that Louis’ would match if Liam had let him continue to cry last night.

Zayn whirls at Liam. “Did he just say you two have had sex? Is that what he was insinuating?”

Grimmy, the traitor, raises his hands in innocence and backs out of the room, closing the door and letting his feet thud loudly on the stairs as he makes his escape. Liam knows this looks bad, but it’s all a misunderstanding. But Harry won’t see it that way, not with Louis running away like he had and Zayn doesn’t look like he’ll be easy to convince either.

“Zayn,” Liam says, stepping into Zayn’s space and bringing their hands together, “it was just a joke.”

Liam isn’t lying, it was a joke. But telling Zayn and Harry now that he and Louis used to have something in the past, no matter how fake or played up it was would only do more harm than good at this point. He hadn’t meant not to tell Zayn. It had honestly slipped his mind. And Liam would be damned if some petty feigned relationship that was created to please his dad would ruin the one good thing he had going.

“You’re half fucking naked in his house.” Zayn tries to fight his way out of Liam’s hands, but Liam pulls him forward and assures him with whispered sentences that it’s not what it looks like.

“I was in the middle of getting dressed,” he explains, smiling when Zayn at least responds to his touch, leaning into his chest and letting some of the anger rain out of his face. “You know you’re the only one for me.”

“Fucking ball of cheese.”

“You know—”

“I don’t know why I keep expecting anything more from you.”

Liam’s head snaps up and he lets Zayn slips from his arms as he stalks his way in between Harry and Louis. “It’s not what it looks like Harry. Nothing happened.”

 Harry looks even worse up close. His eyes are bloodshot, similar to Louis’ and he doesn’t look like he showered before climbing into Grimmy’s car to get here. The sun through the blinds draws attention to the deep circles beneath his eyes and Liam’s heart aches for him, it really does.

“Of course nothing happened,” Harry yells. “You’re in love with Zayn; you wouldn’t do that to him. But what is it had been—” His voice cuts out and he holds a fist to his mouth. “I don’t know what more you want me to give you, Louis.”

His wits coming to him, Louis reaches around Liam to touch him, maybe finally tell him what’s been on his mind, how he feels. “Harry, I—”

“Have you been together before?”

“Harry, please let him explain.”

“ _Why_ is it so hard for you to change,” are his parting words and he pushes past Zayn to fling the door open and tromp down the stairs and out of the house. Out of Louis’ life.

Louis runs to the closet and Zayn and Liam make awkward eye contact, neither one of them sure who they should be siding with here. Actually, Liam knows they are both aware that they’ll be choosing their own friends in this, but they don’t know how to say that to one another.

Louis comes out with a pair of sweatpants hanging off his hips a moment later and he rushes to his bedroom door. But Zayn puts his hand on his chest.

“Zayn let him go after him.”

Liam can see the sympathy in his boyfriend’s eyes. It’s evident in his features, the hard line of his mouth and the stern, stressed set of his brows crinkling the anguish into his face; he doesn’t want to do this. But when Louis makes the motions to move past him, anger flares up in Liam when Zayn holds him by the tops of his arms.

“You’re no good for him, mate,” he says, speaking softly with his mouth falling into a frown. “You’re hurting him.”

“Zayn don’t _say_ that to him.” Liam yanks Louis out of Zayn’s grasp. “He finally got it together last night.”

“People don’t change overnight, Liam.”

He points to himself, perhaps more enthusiastically than necessary. “ _I_ did. I changed overnight for you.”

Zayn looks at him, his head tilting in pity. And that made Liam mad. He didn’t want Zayn to feel sorry for him or Louis. Liam wasn’t deluded; he had the utmost faith in Louis. He knew Louis had changed, even if Zayn didn’t. For him to stop Louis now, when he was so close to seizing the object of his transformation made Liam’s skin hot.

“He’s not you, babe.”

Liam loves Zayn. He’s the reason for the smile on his face in the mornings and the warmth in his heart when he goes to sleep at night. But he wasn’t being fair to Louis. That was his best mate and Liam had worked so hard to make sure he could have the exact thing he shared with Zayn. What made the two of them any different than Harry and Louis? What made their chances for success greater? Zayn meant the world to him, but he wouldn’t stand idle while he diminished what little confidence Louis had in what he felt in his heart for Harry.

“I’m not any better than he is, Zayn. He has every—”

Louis shook his head. “He’s right, Li.”

No. No, no, no. “Lou, _don’t._ Go after him! Like The Last Song, or whatever. Don’t do this.”

He could visibly see Louis shutting down. The fight drained from his face and the hope was gone from his eyes. Louis wiggled out of Liam’s hold and grabbed a sweater from the bed. It made his heart hurt to see Louis revert so quickly, not willing to fight, to stand for what he had admitted so cavalierly to Liam last night.

“It’s not like I’ll have to see him much longer.” Louis sat on the mattress, like he hadn’t just tossed his feelings aside casually, like Harry didn’t matter. “We’ll be gone soon enough.”

“What?”

“Tommo told me the other day.” He leaned back on his elbows and gave Liam a look that made his stomach turn in the striking similarities it held to the look Jay had given him the night she came to him with the stack of photos. It was cold and smug and it made Liam shift in his spot under its intensity. “We’re going back to London Prep in a few weeks.”

This is the first Liam’s hearing of this. When had Tommo gotten a chance to talk to Louis with Liam not around? He’d been careful not to leave him within reach of his parent’s less than admirable ways. Louis was easily influenced, or discouraged, as was the case now.  

Zayn’s intake of breath draws Liam’s attention. “Did you know about this?”

“Zayn, I didn’t.” Liam’s telling the truth. He had no idea, but when his feet shuffle him in Zayn’s direction, Zayn moves in the opposing direction.

“Is that another lie,” he asks.

Things aren’t supposed to go like this. The agenda had been planned out; Liam was to drive Louis out to Grimmy’s and they were going to spend what remained of the weekend there. Louis was going to apologize to Harry, plead with him not to overlook his past actions, but let him make up for them. Liam was supposed to take Zayn upstairs and spend the day drinking in bed and press him into the mattress time and time again, alternating until the both of them were too exhausted to do anything else.

Zayn wasn’t supposed to show up with Harry at the most horrible time and misunderstand the phrasing of Louis’ words. Louis was supposed to run after Harry, instead he let Zayn’s words cut deep into him and he retaliated by exposing information at the most inopportune of times. Liam had been up for two hours and this day had already gone to shit.

Louis laughs from his comfortable place on the bed. He looks over at Zayn. “You’re in no place to talk about lying.”

There’s that tone again; the one that tells Liam he’s missing something about Zayn that Louis is not. He’s spent time getting to know Zayn, he’s taken him out and been taken out and shard secrets with him under the bright shine of the moonlight on otherwise dark nights in seedier parts of town. Louis didn’t get t know more than Liam. But he did and that only added to Liam’s annoyance at the situation.

Zayn shakes his head at the both of them. Liam didn’t do anything wrong, neither did Louis. He doesn’t deserve that look of disappointment, but Zayn gives it to him anyway. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

Liam’s faster than Zayn this time, extending his arm to grab Zayn’s hand. “Wait.”

“Save it, Li. I’ve got to go.”

He won’t even look at him. If he would just turn around, he might see the truth in Liam’s eyes. Liam wasn’t a liar, and Zayn should trust him enough to know that. “Don’t just walk away from me,” he says, louder than usual, his foot coming hard to the ground, more petulant that he would have liked.

Words spit fast out of Zayn’s mouth. He turns on his heel and curls his lip at Liam, obviously not taking his tone lightly. “Don’t give me orders, Liam. Not today.”

“Then don’t let something stupid come in between us. I told you I didn’t know and you—”

“Something stupid,” he questions, taking steps toward Liam. “He tries to kiss you and that’s stupid? You pick him over me every time and that’s not supposed to piss me off?”

Liam can count on one hand the amount of times he’s ever even had to pick Louis over Zayn. It evens out with the times Zayn’s chosen to go with Harry instead of staying with Liam. He can’t make Liam out to be the bad guy, because he’s not. “And you’re not choosing Harry over me right now? You’re not making something that’s between them,” he roughly stabs his finger somewhere in Louis’ direction, “about us? This is rubbish and you know it.”

One thing Liam’s always loved about Zayn was his fiery attitude when he was riled up. It made for great sex later on in the night, if he was honest. But now it served to be his enemy when Zayn didn’t back down one bit, instead getting in Liam’s face and pulling himself to his full height.

“It’s different for me, Liam,” he said, or yelled. Liam couldn’t tell the difference with the heavy rush of blood flowing through his brain, making it hard to decipher anything other than the words coming from Zayn’s mouth. The decibels of his tone were lost on Liam. “Harry is all I have. I don’t have a nice house or a thousand fucking cars. My dad won’t pay my way out of anything or send me to slum it with poor kids when I get out of line. Harry and Niall are all I have and I can’t sit and watch while Louis treats him like shit.”

Zayn is deflecting. None of those things mentioned describe Liam. His father is rich, that’s true, but he’s never capitalized on that for his own gain. Was it so bad that he had extra cash to fall back on when he wanted to take Zayn somewhere nice to eat? Was it not his platinum card that was responsible for the precious picnic basket full of Zayn’s favorite sandwiches three hours out of town? Liam’s wealthy status has never been used to elevate him above Zayn.

“If that’s all you think I am, then I guess we don’t really know each other.”

Zayn scoffs, his only intention to hurt now. Why was he being like this? Why was he running them into the ground over something so trivial? Why was Liam letting him? “I know plenty of people like you. You’re nice, but you’re rich and you’re spoiled. Everything you have is handed to you.” He looks Liam up and down, scanning his eyes over Liam’s body; assessing what’s in front of him and curling his lip cruelly at what he sees.

Liam plans to beg him to stop. This isn’t Zayn. He has a guard up that Liam’s never known before, but he recognizes the signs, because they’re ones he’s had to break down with Louis before. He’s familiar with the harsh stare and the frozen air of attitude, cold in nature. He was going to plead to Zayn to talk about this with him sans the audience, where they could think and express themselves clearly. Until Zayn hammered the final nail in Liam’s resolve.

“You have it _easy._ ”

He tossed the words over his shoulder on his way to the door.

Zayn thinks Liam has it easy? He chuckles at the thought that anyone would think Liam has it easy. If easy is putting everything on the line, while Zayn gives him a partial version of himself, then sure, it’s easy. If easy means going against everything he’s been raised around, exalting the idea that love was real and out there for him to find, instead of carousing around in front of cameras, hiding behind the glare of the flash, then this could definitely be counted as the least difficult thing he’s done in the past eighteen years.

“You think all of this is easy?” He spits the question at Zayn, much like Zayn had spit accusations at him earlier. He barely registered Louis getting off the bed and coming over to where he was pacing forward, closer to where Zayn stood near the door. “You think being with you is easy? I love you and I have to hide that from my dad every day, because if he found out I fell in love with someone from public school, he would laugh me out of my own house.”

Zayn’s mouth falls open, but Liam presses on. “You know _nothing._ I have to pretend every single day; and it may not be as interesting as riding around on a piece of wood in a circle, but its hard fucking work.”

“Liam, stop,” Louis says.

He shakes his head, because he’s no one’s punching bag. Not now, not ever. Liam gets it, he understands. Zayn is lashing out or defending Harry or doing whatever he needs to do to keep himself at arm’s length at the first sign of trouble between the two of them. A sign of trouble that involved two people that both Liam and Zayn have sat around and commented on; talking about how in love Harry and Louis were, on multiple occasions.

And at the first sign of resistance, the first time Liam doesn’t follow Zayn opinions so blindly, he closes himself up. For what reason, Liam doesn’t know, mostly because Liam didn’t know anything about Zayn, not concerning this. He has issues, that’s a given. Liam’s proved time and time again that he’s not going anywhere and that despite their differing backgrounds, he’s never had anything but Zayn’s best interest at heart.

“I’m not finished, Lou.” He shakes Louis’ hand off his shoulder and looks at Zayn. “Money solves everything right? You think it would be better if you and Niall had more money? Harry left that behind because it sucks.” Zayn looks sorry now; an apology on his lips, but Liam isn’t in the mood for any apologies right now. Zayn doesn’t get to explain if Liam wasn’t allowed the chance earlier.

It sounds like rubbish, him whining about his privileges. It’s no secret to him that to the world it looks as if he’s been blessed with the life he has; money, cars, clothes. But what comes from that? What will Liam ever gain from any of this? The answer is nothing, and that’s a fact of life he’s known for a while, and he’s kept his head above water with that information only. It was the only thing keeping him from being a lifeless drone like every other person in this town.

“I’ve never treated you like you were less than me,” he says, ignoring the maddening sting behind his eyes. “But you always act like I’m beneath you because of where I came from. It’s not my fault.”

He tenses as Zayn draws nearer, flinching when his hands make their way to his cheeks and swipe at the wetness underneath his eyes. “Li—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” he says, his voice softer than before. “I didn’t ask for my mum—”

“Liam, babe, stop. Don’t take yourself through that.” Louis voice was caring behind him, gentle in his chastisement.

That’s why he would stand beside Louis in his time of need, because no matter how fucked up he got on the inside, when Liam needed Louis to reel him back in, he was there. Louis took him for what he was.

Zayn’s thumb under his eye brought him out of his thoughts. He looked upset, but Liam was upset as well. Zayn took the first chance he got to run and kick dust in Liam’s face on his way out, bringing up old scars that Liam presumed were healed. Apparently he was wrong.

“I told you I love you and I meant it,” he states, stepping back and wiping his eyes, feeling foolish. Maybe this love thing wasn’t cut out for him. Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe he was selling Louis false stories. Maybe, maybe, maybe. “I love you for who you are, Zayn.”

“Liam, I’m sorry—”

“Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?” Zayn’s face wrinkles in confusion, straightening when he connects Liam’s words together, draws out a conclusion in between the lines. “Did I mean that I loved you? Liam, how can you ask me that goddamn question? Yes—”

“Because I meant it” he declares, loud and unwavering, tired of being the weak one; the one people aren’t afraid to lean on and trample over in the same breath. “I mean it every time I look at you and every time I say it I believe it a little bit more. But if you think that you don’t matter to me because I’m some fucked up rich kid then _none_ of it matters. I can change who I am but I can’t change what you think of me.”

“Liam, don’t do this.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

And Liam is so fucking sick of people being sorry.

Louis is sorry. Zayn is sorry. His mum is sorry. His dad is just a sorry person in general.

Liam bats of Zayn’s hands and finds his keys among a pile of his clothes on the floor. He can hear Zayn protesting and then getting angry when he won’t listen. Irony has always been a bitch to Liam. Louis’ worried voices of concern ring in his ears. _Fuck, Liam, come back, this is ridiculous. Liam, he didn’t mean it. Where is all of this coming from? Baby, don’t leave like this. Liam? This has nothing to fucking do with us. We don’t do this._ Why he couldn’t have figured that out ten minutes ago, he isn’t sure. Now that he’s not lying down and taking whatever they throw at him, they all want him to stop and see reason.

_Liam. Liam. Liam._

“I’m tired of everyone making everything my fault.”

He slams Louis’ door on their objections and staggers down the stairs.

Jay is sitting on the sofa as he passes. He rolls his eyes at the smirk on her face and the self-satisfied way she flips through the glossy pages of whatever gossip rag she’s thumbing through.

“Liam? Did your guests get what they came for? They rang and I figured you’d want me to send them on up.”

Louis and Zayn’s shouts can be heard from upstairs as Liam stops to face her.

“You did this on purpose.” It’s not an accusation; he knows it’s true. “You ruined everyth—”

She smiles at him, veiling the malice in her words with a toothy grin. “I don’t see what the problem is. He’s the boy in the pictures, correct? _Do you not have enough security in your relationship—?_ ”

“I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you right now.”

She laughs haughtily and waves her hand at Liam. “Liam, you can leave now.”

“Wh—”

“ _Now,_ we’re done talking.”

 

**/////**

 

“Liam, maybe you should hear him out.”

12 missed calls. 27 unopened text messages and enough messages to fill up the remainder of his voicemail box.

Liam had no intentions of opening any of them.

Was he behaving like a child? Yes. Did he care? If he was being truthful, that was a yes as well, but right now he could act like he didn’t care. Right now Liam couldn’t feel anything but the smoke burning its way down his throat and filling up his lungs before he blew it back out into the cold, and shivered at the chill of the air nipping at his skin.

He drove home, speeding out of Louis’ driveway past a distraught Harry and a concerned looking Grimmy. Liam dived under his covers and didn’t come out until Louis walked through his door later in the night, tugging him into a comforting, strictly fucking platonic hug and let him cry it out.

As he lied there and thought about it, he had behaved foolishly. Liam overreacted and let the things that had been festering under his skin unbeknownst to him come to the surface. He had said horrible things to Zayn; he distinctly remembers the comment about his skateboarding; only running through his mind in passing when he replayed all the emotions on Zayn’s face as he stood there and took everything Liam had dished out to him.

But Zayn said terrible things as well. He made Liam feel like nothing, and that was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. Not after that summer; when he came back, bright-faced and enthusiastic to be home to his mum and sisters, only to find them gone. He felt useless and unwanted, then guilty because if he had stayed around more that summer, maybe his mum would have had a reason to stick around.

Liam was more than that. He was more than a wallet or a paycheck on his father’s behalf. And every bad thing Liam had ever thought about himself had been brought to life by the honey-rich tone of Zayn’s voice and it hurt him more than it should have. Louis was supposed to be the damaged one, the one that lashed out and didn’t thinks things through, as bad as that sounds. Liam didn’t raise his voice or lose his cool.

But there were shreds of truth in his words. Zayn did hold him at a distance for some things, and regardless if he told Liam he loved him and let him into some of his surface-deep dreams and ambitions, Liam was still left out of the loop at times and that was a problem. He genuinely wanted to be the nice guy and let Zayn come to him in his own time, if Zayn wanted to bring all of Liam’s faults to the table, his own had to be addressed.

Liam couldn’t take the brunt of everything, for everyone; not even Zayn.

So he was sticking to his guns and letting things go for the weekend. It hurt his head to think about it much, how screwed up things were on his account— _no, he was stopping that, letting everything fall to his shoulders_ —on _his and Zayn’s_ account. Maybe things would work themselves out. Perhaps he would take another page out of his mum’s book; the one filled with insane notions of love and hope and better days.

He scoffed into his beer. Look where she had gotten him now. He was alone, and drunk and about to be high if he could help it. Liam’s heart wasn’t broken, but it was shaken. He was shaken. All his theories and assured thoughts had been replaced with seeds of doubt, in himself and what he had with Zayn.

Maybe the love thing wasn’t for everyone. He shook his head. No, he loved Zayn; of that he was certain. Well, he felt something more than like. It was more than attraction. But—right now he doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry, Liam. This is my fault.”

Liam can drink to that. Actually, no he can’t. “I don’t want it if it’s that easy to lose it,” he says, tipping what remained of his drink into his mouth. It’s nice to hear someone take responsibility, but it was for the wrong reasons. This wasn’t Louis fault. He might have been the catalyst, but it was a problem belonging to Zayn and Liam in actuality.

They drink and they smoke. It’s nice; the familiarity of relaxing with his best friend with no restrictions on how much time they had together before they were to be off with someone else. He’s missed this. It would always be the two of them. Louis would never leave Liam and Liam would forever return the favor.

To think that he almost threw this away; this lifelong friendship with the most knuckled-headed, rude, sarcastic little fuck with the biggest heart and the kindest smile, for something that proved to not be strong enough to hold up against unprecedented doubt and walls of secrets.

Louis passes him a joint. It feels weird not to accept it from Zayn, take it from his slightly calloused fingertips and share the wisps of smoke between the person to his left and giggle into a neck marked with tattoos and evidence of Liam’s lov— _affection._ He slips it between his two fingers anyway and lets it chisel away at his problems for a while. His spoiled, rich kid problems.

“Maybe I never really knew what love was in the first place.”

He laughs bitterly, not liking the sound of his voice, but not stopping himself. “Fuck it,” he says, handing what was left of the blunt to Louis’ awaiting fingers, “maybe I never did either.”

 

**/////**

**_Louis_ **

Louis was a terrible, terrible person. He had insecurity issues and a bad habit of spending excess amounts of money. His dad was under the impression that he was dating his oldest friend’s only son and he was pretty sure his mum was the devil herself. He gave to charity, mostly to make himself feel better about all the smoking and drinking and he never spent time with his sisters now that he was older. But a majority of these paled in comparison to how shitty he felt by watching over the lazy, love-sick pile of bones that was Liam Payne.

He and Zayn were being stupid. It was one fight, one. And although Louis had an idea that Liam would never admit it, it wasn’t all Zayn’s fault. They were in love one minute, giggling and laughing and whispering sappy-sweet shit in each other’s ears and the next they were cast apart, strung together only by ignored text messages and angry voicemails. Louis couldn’t help but think this was all his fault, despite how much Liam reassured him this was bound to happen sooner or later, and it was better that it happen now instead of further on down the road.

That was bullshit.

He and Liam were missing school for the week, thank god. Liam’s dad was being honored at the end of the week and apparently it benefited his career to have his face smeared all over the press beforehand, along with his prodigy son and his long-time boyfriend. Seriously, the amount of times he and Liam were used to prolong their parent’s social standing was disturbing on so many levels. But Louis didn’t mind, because he wasn’t looking forward to going to school with a somber Liam and an angry Harry.

He wasn’t naïve enough to think that he didn’t have feelings for Harry, he did. But like Liam, he was stubborn and unlike Liam, he genuinely thought this was all for the best. The bomb that he dropped on Liam and Zayn might have been harsh in its execution but it was true. He and Liam would be going back to London Prep at the end of the grading period and things would change, even if no one besides him believed it.

Louis would be back at the top of a class that mattered, one that’s credits would land him in a prestigious college where he would laze around until his father deemed him ready to fully propel in his footsteps and he would only have to think about Harry when he was interning for his father and having dinner with Anne and Gemma. Liam would play sports again; maybe become a professional athlete to carry on the Payne name into other avenues besides entertainment marketing and the thought of Zayn would forever be in the back of his mind.

Liam was so much like his mum, always dreaming and rebelling in the same breath, and Louis honestly feared that Geoff would ship him someone to either get rid of him or make him disappear like he did with Nicola and Karen. Louis didn’t want that to happen, so it may be best for the chips to lie where they may.

Only, they were returning to school tomorrow, a little over a week since Liam had last spoken to Zayn in person. Louis had been there on the night Zayn drunk dialed Liam in the middle of the week and cried to him, and he watched Liam cave, ready to get on the next plane back to town and go be with him. But he also watched Liam’s face turn from happy, but desperate to angry and disappointed when Zayn told him to go ahead and stay with Louis if he wanted to.

He knew that all this speculation was getting to Liam’s head, the ones about the two of them being something other than friends, and it didn’t help that they had to wrap their arms around one another and stage-kiss for the cameras they knew were waiting in the bushes. Louis was ridiculous in his attempt to coral Liam back into something all those nights ago, but it was the fear talking and neither one of them took the action as seriously as Harry and Zayn had.

Now, they’re back home and they’ve just returned from his dad’s office to confirm the set of pictures that would be in the tabloids on Monday morning, along with Geoff’s acceptance pictures and a few other photos that were snapped during their impromptu vacation. Louis scoffed at anyone seeing these pictures and thinking he and Liam were in love. They barely touched, because they did hug and cuddle to watch movies sometimes, but this was forced and both of them knew it was wrong. It tainted the dynamics of their actual friendship.

And Liam was still sulking. He wasn’t taking a fucking shower, and Louis doesn’t think he’s had one since Friday. He was too busy drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle and smoking all of Louis’ goddamn weed. And he was so sick of watching him mope, that he planned on doing something about it. Sure, it was annoying, but contrary to popular belief, Louis did have a heart and ached to see Liam hurt like this.

That’s how he ended up outside Harry and Niall’s apartment.

He’d bribed Grimmy with tickets to some lame music event his dad had gotten him tickets to, to get Harry out of the house. Yes, Louis was avoiding the problem, and he would until he was far, far away from Harry with all of this love bullshit behind him. It was laughable to anyone that was watching; Louis sitting low in his car and waiting for Grimmy to pick up Harry and Niall, and take them out to eat while Zayn stayed and felt sorry for himself inside the house. Nick told him he was faring just about as well as Liam and that urged Louis to move into action even more.

He might not have cared about himself, but he cared about Liam. And this was his fault, he always screwed everything up. Louis could make this right, forget about his happiness or whatever he thought he could have had with Harry and put Liam’s needs in front of his own; like Liam has done for him time after time.

Louis waited until they were down the street and around the corner before he got out and stalked to the door. He pounded hard, rapping his knuckles until he heard Zayn move around inside and slide open the lock on the door.

He swung the door open to see Louis’ smiling face on the other side.

“Fuck no.”

Louis tries not to take too much offense to that or the swing of the door back in his face, just before he wedged himself in the frame and pushed his way inside. “Fuck yes.”

Zayn shook his head. He looked just about as shitty and Liam felt. His sweatpants were hanging low on his hips and it appears that he couldn’t be bothered with putting a shirt on and by the smell of it; he matched his boyfriend in lack of concern for hygiene.

“Harry’s not even here, if that’s who you came looking for,” he snarls. Christ, he’s moody. “And if you came to talk to me, I don’t have anything to fucking say to you.”

“Now I know how I sounded, god, sorry for putting you guys through that poor-me bullshit.” Louis didn’t flinch externally when Zayn flexed his fists at his sides, but make no mistake; he was sacrificing his life here. Zayn was scary as fuck. Though, it did quell him a little to know that this big badass enjoyed sipping juice boxes and had an intense obsession with cuddling while watching romantic comedies. “I need you to go put on your big boy pants and peel my best friend off the floor.”

Zayn escaped to Harry’s room to put a shirt on. And Louis ignored the absurd fluttering in his chest at the sight of the familiar piece of clothing, a tee-shirt that brought out the color in Harry’s eyes, one that Louis had the pleasure of stripping—that’s not what he’s here for.

“If you’re talking about Liam,” Zayn says, sitting on the back of the couch and facing Louis with an irritated glare, “he walked out on me.”

“You let him walk out.”

“You let the same thing happen with Harry, so I don’t know why you’re talking.”

An attempt to rile up Louis’ feathers meant that something he said was getting to Zayn. And just like his father taught him, he would hone in on his opponents weakness, however cruel it may be. This was for Liam.

“I don’t want Harry,” he lies. “You want Liam, you love him. So go tell him before shit gets too fucked up.”

Zayn marched toward him and Louis schooled his face to remain impassive as Zayn stuck his finger in his face. “You love him, in some screwed up way. And for some reason he loves you, too.” Louis froze up. “All you do is hurt him and string him along. I don’t know why he lets you but I won’t. We’ll find some ways to deal with you at school for the rest of the time you’re there, but after that, we’re done with the two of you.”

“You have a lot of nerve telling me how messed up I am when all you have to do is tell Liam what you’ve been hiding and this never would have been a problem.”

Zayn’s lips part to speak but from some strange place, Louis conjures up enough courage to hold a hand up to silence him.

“You love Liam and he loves you. I’ve never seen him like this, so taken with someone and so distraught when they’re gone.” He stabs a very brave finger into Zayn’s chest. “You want to bitch at me for playing Harry, that’s fine. But don’t act like you’re not fooling Liam into thinking you’re ever going to let him in all the way.”

“I doubt it hardly matters if I stole a few bucks from my dad when I was younger.”

“It does to him,” he says, stepping out of his space when Zayn’s fists tighten a little too much for his liking. “He lets you in at every turn and you hold things back from him. So go over there and tell him that you love him and get him out of my fucking house. Really, he’s stinking—”

Zayn takes a few shaky breaths and Louis is worried greatly about that vein in his face that looks in danger of popping. “This isn’t your world, Louis. I don’t have to listen to you come over here and demand things from me that you won’t give yourself. Liam’s upset? I’m sorry.” The pain on his face is evident at the mention of Liam, but he keeps talking at Louis, not to him; at him. “But Harry is the same way; I’m the same way! Liam might care, but you two are a package deal and you don’t seem to care at all that you broke him.”

Louis swallows hard. It was never his intention to hurt Harry, never. But he did, because that’s what Louis does. He tarnishes everything he touches. This is why he was walking away now, before he sunk his hooks into Harry and dragged him down. Harry would be fine over time; no one missed Louis for long. Soon, that dimpled smile would return and he would look back on his time with Louis with rips of laughter at thinking he could ever be in love with such a horrid person. He’s not going to dwell over it.

“I’m not going to betray my best friend for you,” he says, wincing when he carries on, “or Liam.”

“Don’t you mean your source of income?”

It’s a dig below the belt, but Louis isn’t going to get squeamish over the details now.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that Louis?”

He scoffs. “You love a guy that you won’t be honest with, and I’m the asshole? You know what, Zayn. Yeah, I’m an asshole and I did Harry wrong, but at least I admitted it. Liam would never cheat on you and we both know that, but you accused him of it anyway. Fuck you, you’re an asshole.”

“We were fine before you came along.”

Louis’ eyes roll and he walks to the door. This was a waste of his time. “Don’t flatter yourself, we didn’t come here for you.”

Zayn follows him to the door. “Then it shouldn’t be too hard for you to leave.”

The emptiness in Zayn’s voice reminds him so much of his own hollow self. His eyes flick over to the couch and then the chair and the kitchen table and all the other things that have to be haunting Zayn in this house with all the memories they hold on Liam. He doesn’t know Zayn, and if he’s honest, he doesn’t care to. Louis is under the illusion of love with Harold, not Zayn. But Liam favors him, Zayn means the world to Liam and he’s watching it all crash around him and that makes him sad.

“He does love you, you know,” he whispers. It slips out against his will. He never intends to say it out loud, but it happens just the same and it’s not an untruth. “He doubts himself right now and that breaks my heart. He’s my best mate, I don’t ever want to too him like that. But he loves you, Zayn.”

Sadly, Zayn’s head hangs and he guides Louis out the door more gently than he deserves. “No, Louis, he loves you.”

“That’s not fair, I’m his best friend. You can’t make him choose.”

“I didn’t,” he says when Louis is on the front steps and Zayn is standing inside, the dark shadows of the unlit house making him look worse than before. “I chose for him.”

And he closed the door on Louis and possibly whatever chance Louis had on repairing what Zayn and Liam had.

 

**/////**

 

_****_Liam_**  ** _

Liam’s week has been horrendous and today he had to see Zayn for the first time. He could skip again, but eventually he would have to bear down and get it over with, so it was best to do it now. Talking to Zayn on the phone differed from seeing him in person and Liam knew it would take its toll later on tonight when he was forced to be alone with his thoughts, but he had a clear head and he was sober for the first time in the last few days.

Louis was going to pick him up today; there was no way Liam could finagle out of it. He’d been persistent in his nagging as of late and it was wearing down Liam’s nerves. Now he knew how Louis felt when Liam harped on every one of his problems.

But his dad was forever set on nailing Liam to the ground, and he summoned Liam into the family room just before he stepped out of the door. Liam’s never been a big fan of his dad. He’s pompous and his talent is limited. Liam can blame him for every bad thing that has ever happened in his life if he really wanted to, but it wasn’t like him to play the victim.

“What do you want,” he asked, not feeling like masking his displeasure this early on the morning, on today of all days. “I have school in fifteen minutes.”

He’s killing himself with irony these days, and the photos that are slammed on the couch in the large, unused room do nothing to blow him away like it should. Him and Zayn, ones from a veranda Liam sang to him on and a few from a football game where Liam took Zayn under the bleachers, and nursed a sore shoulder from where Zayn had to bite down on his shoulders to silence his moans. Harry and Louis—why did he care.

“I assume Jay showed you these,” he says, folding his arms and reclining against the back of the loveseat. “If you’re here to demand I quit seeing him, you’re too late.”

Geoff slammed his hand on the table, hard, but it didn’t startle Liam. He didn’t really care how angry his father was. “We just got you on the cover for my award.”

Did he not see the fault in the words he was saying? “Right! You’re so right, dad. Me. I’m on the cover with Lou. If I’m correct, you have a small insert in the corner? Don’t fucking yell at me after my relationship earned you enough press to land on the cover!”

He stood fast at Liam’s shouts. “Watch your tone with me!”

“It’s done, okay? Zayn and I? We’re done!” His chest heaved up and down, but he felt calm inside. On the outside he was angry, but inside he was finished. Liam had no interest in pursuing this with his father. “The guy in the pictures is gone, okay? I don’t want to hear about it.”

“These better not come out, Liam.”

He nods his head and walks away. “Trust me your little fucking lap dog already told me.”

“What’s gotten into you? You never behave this way!”

He smiles at his dad; a curve of his lips that he hopes reaches its intent in nastiness. “I’m kind of cold, aren’t I,” he muses. You should be glad, dad. I got smart. I don’t care about anything but myself now, nothing else is worth it.”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because now I’m just like you.”

 

**/////**

Louis doesn’t demand to know why Liam is late getting to the car and Liam doesn’t offer an explanation.

Louis once told him that an angry Liam is a scary Liam. He said Liam’s voice was too low and his temper ran too high. Then, he’d brushed it off and called Louis a dramatic twit, but he could see the signs. Liam could feel the tension in his shoulders and the angry words on his tongue. His eyes felt too tight, squinting at the world around him and his lips felt stiff, strung into a tight line, displeased at everything around him.

“Sorry if I’m a bit much today,” he says, his apology hanging in the air between them as they wait in a line of cars at a drive-thru they have no business being in. The time signaled that they would arrive to school late, and the queue was increasingly slow. Liam didn’t think Louis was in any need of coffee or tea or whatever, just biding as much time as Starbuck’s would allow before he had to go to school.

He felt selfish, locking himself in his room and dwelling over his own problems when Louis was in need of concern as well. Once again he’d been built up and torn down in the same instance and Liam cringed when Louis plastered a fake smile on his face and told Liam everything was going to work itself out. He was hurting just like Liam. But Liam vowed to let him sort things out for himself this time. Louis was never going to learn if he knew he could screw up because Liam was continually there to catch him.

“It’s not like I’ll put up with much of your shit anyway.” His grin is authentic and he pats Liam’s cheek. “You’re cute but I’ll kick your ass if you bitch and moan at me all day again.”

“I guess that’s fair enough.”

Louis paid for their drinks and drove in the direction of the highway that would ultimately lead to the school. The scenery flew by Liam as he sipped on the hot liquid, ignoring the burn it left on his tongue and enjoying his final moments of freedom before he had to step out of Louis car and into the building he would where he would undoubtedly run into Zayn.

He wasn’t quite sure if they were broken up or not. Liam’s never had a relationship before; he wasn’t up to date on how these things worked. Should he smile at Zayn? Should they make an attempt at being friends? Would he get his pen back in the one class they shared together? Where did Niall stand in all this? Were they still allowed to eat lunch together?

 It was a never-ending marathon of questions he didn’t hold the answers to and by the time he drug himself to first period, all the speculation began to give him a headache.

Liam made sure to keep his head down and his mouth shut. He texted Louis on and off during the morning and made a feeble effort at a somewhat civil conversation with his classmates. People were nicer today, or maybe Liam noticed more when his head wasn’t in the clouds. He passed Niall in the hall some time before lunch, and got a surprisingly nice grin as he went by. Harry was a different story. He didn’t glare at Liam, or give him a dirty look of sorts; he just kind of stared unemotionally and it freaked Liam out just a lot.

He had yet to see Zayn, but he was sure he heard him several times; the distinct sound of wheels on linoleum and shoes slapping pavement as he propelled along. Liam restrained himself from looking back all of those times.

Fortunately for him and Louis, they had to spend the lunch period going from class to class, picking up the workload they’d missed out of while they were out of town with Liam’s father. How Geoff had bribed them to look the other way while they disappeared for no reason other than to smear their faces across papers and tabloids, Liam didn’t know. But they hadn’t missed much, so Liam wasn’t too worried about his GPA slipping. He was a spoiled rich kid, right? His daddy could pay Liam’s way to the top of his class.

Bullshit is what that was.

He spotted Zayn’s ridiculously high quiff towards the end of the day and he’d ran into Harry two more times. All thee times yielded the same result, an empty stare and no spoken words. Liam was hurt, honestly, but he didn’t let it get to him. Harry was a good guy; he’d warm up to Liam in the slightest bit before they left. He was sure of it.

Now he was in the last class of the day, the one he shared with Zayn, and he was vibrating with nervous energy. What if Zayn doesn’t speak to him? Or even worse, what if he does? Liam isn’t prepared for this. He’s been on the edge of his seat all day, watching over his shoulder and being very careful where he was walking. Zayn literally had to pass right by Liam’s desk to get to his seat.

He wasn’t ready for this to be over just yet.

Liam bowed his head, pillowing his face on his arms and waited for class to start. Perhaps Zayn would skip, or maybe Liam could escape before Zayn got here. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. Liam would jus—sit in his seat.

Zayn walked in, or stormed in, before Liam had the chance to make a clean getaway. He held no reservations in walking up to Liam. Right towards him. His hair was styled the way Liam liked it and he was wearing that sleeveless denim jacket with the god-awful Aztec print over the shoulders. Liam hated that thing.

He was brisk in his walk and his eyes were fiery, but in the place of his usual loving and passionate fire was a blaze of anger and hurt. Zayn’s shoulders were set and he threw a magazine at Liam before he could register what was going on.

The class’ eyes were on them, including their teacher, whose normal routine was to ignore them until the warning bell rang. Not today, seeing that today was meant to be the worst day of Liam’s life and it wasn’t unlikely that she hated him for many reasons. Not paying attention in class did not warrant her unprofessionally interested look into his personal life.

“Congratulations,” Zayn says to him, while Liam sits in shock at his sarcastic outburst. “I was going to skip class but when I went to pick up some smokes and this was on the rack next to the register, I knew I had to come and give you my blessing on you and your new boyfriend.” Zayn flattens the magazine from its strewn state and taps his finger callously on the cover. “You two deserve each other, you really, really fucking do.”

What the hell is he talking about?

Zayn doesn’t break eye contact with him until Liam looks down at the—oh shit.

“Zayn, it’s—”

He laughs cruelly. “It’s not what it looks like? Have a nice life, Liam.”

And he turns his back on Liam and rushes to the door.

Fuck this. Liam storms out after him, leaving the frenzied whispers of his peers behind and following Zayn down the hall on that stupid skateboard. “If you would let me explain things, like ninety percent of the time,” he yells, “we would never fight.”

Zayn stops abruptly and scares Liam as he dangerously boosts himself of the skateboard in a flurry of movement that doesn’t look safe to him. He turns in the hallway, and they both easily ignore the stragglers in the hallway as they stalk angrily toward each other. Even in the worst of times, when he looks at Zayn, it’s just the two of them.

“You were gone for a week and when I called you, you told me you were with your family. And I wasn’t stupid,” he sighs. “I knew when Louis wasn’t around, he was with you. You two can’t do _anything_ by yourselves. But I never thought I’d have to see that. You stood there in Louis’ house and _lied_ to me.”

Liam calms himself down before he speaks, breathing through his nose and rolling out the build-up in his shoulders. “I’ve never lied to you and I’ve never given you a reason to think I’m lying to you,” he speaks softly. “I wasn’t lying then and I’m not lying now.”

Going the opposite route, Zayn shouts at him again. “I saw the pictures, Liam! You went on a romantic fucking vacation with him and left me here thinking that we still had something. I feel like an idiot!”

“Zayn.”

“You’re hugging and kissing him and I’m at home crying because I thought I lost you!”

“ _Zayn._ ”

“But I never had you, did I? You and Louis were laughing behind my back, behind Harry’s back.”

“Zayn.”

“You can’t play with people like that, Liam! You can’t pretend you love me and—”

“Zayn, _shut up_ for a second!”

Zayn’s mouth snaps shut and Liam just wants to hold him. Liam’s hands itch to sink into the fabric of that ugly goddamn jacket and pull Zayn into him like he’s meant to be. He wants to smooth those lines of worry and doubt from Zayn’s face with his thumbs and the soft press of his lips. But things have been said that can’t be taken back, and truths have been exposed that can’t be covered up again.

Zayn doesn’t trust him, and that’s hilarious, coming from a guy who’s seen all the cards Liam has to play and has only shown half his deck in return. Liam’s been honest this whole time. Could he have divulged what he had set up with Louis and their parents some time before hand? Yeah, that would have solved a lot of problems. But if Liam can mess up one time and be verbally punished, then what do they really have? Is it all they thought it to be?

Liam is an honest guy. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he doesn’t want that to be his weakness anymore.

“It’s a fake relationship,” he explains, absorbing the hatred Zayn is spewing at him with grace, controlling himself like he’s used to, leaving the hostile version of himself behind. “It’s a press thing for my dad. I could have told you, but you wouldn’t have understood. It’s complicated, okay?”

“You want me to believe you that you and Louis are in a fake relationship? Do I look that stupid to you?”

He shrugs. “Believe me or don’t believe me, it’s the truth. It’s why I had to be careful where I took you and it’s the same reason why Louis couldn’t commit to Harry. My dad, both of his parents; they don’t like guys like you and Harry and we know that.” He doesn’t want to delve too far into detail. Liam wants to get out of here as soon as possible, his hands are getting sweaty and it’s getting hot under his collar.

“They expect a lot from Lou," he started, staring into the eyes he was so familiar with, the ones that used to trust him and love him and look past whatever was thrown their way. “They expect the same from me." He wrung his hands in between them, sliding them together simply out of something to do. "Our parents have this image for us that we have to fill out. How we look, what we wear, where we go, who we're friends with, who we date. ”

He looked past Zayn to the doors that led to the parking lot; he’s taken back to the memeory of his best mate against his car, smiling and loose, joint in his hand, sticking his leg out to trip Niall, who was circling him on his skateboard. He had looked so happy there, not that Louis was a grumpy person, but they could hide here. No paps had known they attended school here, and even though they found out eventually, at the moment they had time to spare with a couple of stoners who told funny jokes and kissed each of them within an inch of their lives. They were happy in the most unlikely place.  

Now Zayn’s eyes watered and Liam’s hands shook. He would walk out to the parking lot and leave Zayn behind him, because he no longer smiled when he looked at Liam. Liam couldn’t hide in the safe haven that was Zayn’s embrace and forget about the world around him while he giggled into his neck and rubbed his hands across his back. He did well to overlook his troubles before but he was foolish in thinking they would vanish with a touch of smoke and the light of hope in his chest when Zayn kissed his lips.

But they had grown tenfold in his absence from the ground and his feet were no longer so far off the ground. He was planted with the tribulations of the life he’s made for himself; the one Geoff has gifted him with. And he’s done well to hold onto Zayn for as long as he had.

“Liam,” he breathed, pulling Liam back from his memories and dropping him off back into the harsh light of reality. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? I would have understood.”

“How would you have understood?”

“I know what its like—”

Liam irritation returned and his skin heated with his flaring emotions. “How would you have known?” Zayn looks taken aback and it takes him a moment to conjure up the right words, but Liam doesn’t want to hear a rehearsed version of what should come out of his mouth naturally. He wants genuine thoughts and honest answers to questions he should even have to ask. “You can’t tell me can you?”

He doesn’t talk crudely, just asks a question with a palm to Zayn’s face. This was a rollercoaster, this whole love thing. And Liam wasn’t certain he was cut out for it. He didn’t know if he was or if he ever would be.

He loved Zayn, which was no secret. But he couldn’t let his emotions yank around in his chest while Zayn decided if Liam was worthy of his secrets. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he says. “What’s done is done.”

He kisses Zayn’s forehead and leaves the tears on both of their faces left unspoken.

He drops his hands and leaves Zayn there, taking in the curve of his eyelashes on his cheeks for the final time this close. Liam never intends on getting this personal with him again. It hurts a little too much. Zayn’s eyes stay closed and Liam parts from him, not knowing where he’s going, because the last class of the day had only just started and Liam hadn’t driven himself to school that morning.

“Liam.”

He won’t turn around, because if he turns around, Liam knows he’ll let Zayn walk over him again, take his time and spread Liam too thin again. Liam wants to go home and bury his face into his pillow and scream until his lungs give out. He wants to cry and punch his mattress. He wants to call his mum and yell at her, and then call Jay and do the same thing. He really wants to find his dad and land a solid hit to his face. Liam wants to go find Harry and apologize to him; he separated himself from the lies and deviancy of this world, only to be dragged down by it in a new way. He wanted to say he was sorry for that; for them.

Liam wanted to do a lot of things, but he did not want to turn around.

“Save it, Zayn. I’ve got to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only two more chapters to go! a super long last chapter and the epilogue and this story will be done D: 
> 
> tell me whatcha think! :D xx


	8. It Was Easy Coming Back Here To You Once I Figured It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. just wow. this has been one crazy fic for me, personally. my first fully completed chaptered one, so woot woot!
> 
> uhm I hate a good 80% of this, but i think it's normal for a writer to be nervous sometimes about their work. eh, i hope you guys like it.
> 
> i kind of might just really suck at endings and this just ruined the fic for you.... if so, im sorry. 
> 
> ugh, anyway it's angsty, but i promise it's happy endings all around! :D  
> read on!

Geoff’s wealth and input meant nothing to Liam. Liam didn’t care about the money in his pocket, nor did he value the opinions he had about Liam’s choices in life. But at times both came in handy, or they would if Liam would take them under proper consideration.

For instance Liam couldn’t be bothered to go to school for the next few days, and after his week long stint in the sun, his school didn’t take his excess absences lightly. But they had a shitty after-school tutoring program in the library, and Geoff had to do was fork over a check for a significant of money and they didn’t blink an eye. Not when Liam called in sick for the second day that week, or when he just didn’t show up the third day as well. On Thursday when he was forced to go back to school, Liam refused to maintain his regular schedule where he had Zayn in his last class. So when he arrived to his first class, he was handed a crisp white piece of paper listing the classes of his new schedule, with a new set of teachers and an alternate lunch period.

He would no longer have the privilege to cut across town for high priced tea and horribly flavored curry with Louis, but that didn’t bother him as much as it probably was supposed to.

Louis was kind enough to bring Liam any work he would be missing, which wasn’t much, if he was honest. And he informed Liam that his efforts to avoid Zayn were in vain because he hadn’t shown up to school either. Other than dropping off mandatory worksheets Liam didn’t let Louis hang around for much longer than necessary. He could see the forming of questions and statements on his tongue and Liam frankly wasn’t in the mood to play the role of matchmaker or un-heartbreaker.

So he spent most of his time with Nick. And that was the time he should have taken his father’s advice and kept his distance from the good intended, but snaky ways of the youngest Grimshaw child.

Initially Grimmy had been the perfect candidate to soothe the pain ebbing away at Liam’s chest. Nick was friends with Harry first and foremost, and he held a more distant tie to Zayn; that worked for Liam. He brought over pre-rolled blunts, and Liam tried to block out the thought that it was most likely Zayn’s long, nimble fingers that spent the time rolling them up. The same fingers he had spent months familiarizing himself with; the ones that combed through his hair and worked their way up his back. And the paper holding the sticky, green substance that would fade his problems to black was almost certainly sealed with Zayn’s tongue.

Apparently he failed at rejecting the memories from flooding his brain.

He thought weed or cigarettes or tall bottles of bitterly flavored vodka would drown out those recollections; once he muddled through the process of lighting up, and pushed the connections of each blunt to the back of his brain. Grimmy would pass him a lighter without comment, only speaking to Liam with the pleading in the shine of his eyes and the pity set in the deep lines around his mouth. Liam would inhale smoke; let it burn his lungs and his nostalgia. And his head would spin, or maybe it was the room. Yeah, probably the room.

Either way, Grimmy was the supplier of his absentmindedness and over the last half of the week Liam had relied on him more than he would have thought possible. But he should have known that little shit would best Liam the first chance he got.

Liam should have listened to his father when he warned Liam to stay away from him.

“It’s just a party,” he said. “And Zayn won’t be there, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Grimmy promised.

Liam wasn’t worried about seeing Zayn; that wasn’t the issue. Liam had talked to Zayn, well, Zayn’s voicemail. He made sure to call when he knew Zayn wouldn’t answer. Liam would whisper drunken apologies and he would follow the same routine until Zayn had caught on to his plan and stayed by his phone in the early hours of the morning. He picked up but neither of them said anything. And that was fair enough, Liam had rejected enough of Zayn’s desperate, pleading phone calls to deserve the silence on the other end of the phone.

It didn’t bother Liam at all to listen to the pattern of Zayn’s breathing until he drifted into a realm of sleep.

“I don’t know why we can’t just pick up the weed and leave,” Louis complained from the front seat of Liam’s car, pulling down the mirror and using the light streaming in from the street lamps to readjust the strands of his hair. “Smoking pot doesn’t have to be a goddamn social event, Grim.”

“If you want the weed, you’ll go to the party,” he repeated for the fourth time that night.

Liam wasn’t concerned about running into Harry or Zayn. He knew for a fact that Grimmy wouldn’t have gotten Louis to get in the car if there was any chance of them stumbling across the long, lean, tattooed curly-haired boy.

“Can you two shut up until we get there?” Liam pulled off the exit and let the sound of his blinker’s _click-click-click_ obscure the sound of Louis and Nick’s bickering. “We can just stay for a couple of hours and get out of here. Am I buying and smoking you guys out, or are we splitting the cost and sharing evenly?”

Louis smacked his lips. “Being sober has made you bitchy.”

“Well you’re always bitchy, so I guess that makes us even.”

“I’m not bitchy, I’m opinionated.”

“That’s literally a different way of saying bitchy.”

Grimmy cleared his throat and instructed Liam to take a right at the next turn-off. “Boys, let’s play nice, hmm?” Liam could see him pull out his phone in the rearview mirror. “Okay, my connect is here—”

“And your connect isn’t…”

He groaned and collapsed back into the leather of his seat, dramatic twit. “No, it’s not your ex. Do you two even know if you’re still together? Honest, Liam, you’re both being ridiculous.”

That ruffled his feathers in the slightest. Liam didn’t need relationship advice from Nick Grimshaw, or any advice, in fact. Grimmy was a source of entertainment and sometimes a good person to cry with; he was highly emotional in that sense. But Liam didn’t want a good cry, he wanted drugs. That wasn’t healthy, no matter how you twisted the angle, but Liam was hurting right now, and he’d cried all the tears he had left in his body at this point. So, the least Grimmy could do was hook Liam up with something to distract him for a while.

He didn’t want to deal with any bullshit tonight.

He and Louis were ushered into the party, filled to the brim with people he hadn’t rubbed elbows with in quite some time; their were clothes crisp and sophisticated; the music only loud enough to disguise the reality that no matter how expensive the alcohol was, girls in short skirts and low cut tops still fit the characteristic of trashy. Liam accepted a variety of costly wine in tall flutes aligned in the entrance hall and passed up on the offer to dance on the makeshift dance floor.

He’s sure it would have been an alright time if he’d felt like any of it was necessary. Liam wanted to get what he came for, leave and go home. There he would sit in his bathroom and look in the mirror, try to discover new ways to fix himself. Or maybe would just try to fill the hole that he’d ripped into his life when he decided he was done waiting around for Zayn to—. Well, when he decided he was done waiting around for Zayn, period. Maybe Liam would call him tonight; when his inhibitions were lowered and his head wasn’t as clear; filled less with cold, stubborn bitterness and more with the balmy heat of throaty apologies.

But it only coincided with his father’s distrust of Grimmy’s actions that when he and Louis were promised that Grimmy’s friend was upstairs, down the hall to the left, he didn’t follow immediately until Liam and Louis were well on their way to the door.

“What,” he asked, raising his palms in innocence. “I’m waiting for someone else, you two go right ahead.” Nick waved them into the room and lingered until Liam flipped the light switch. Then was when he should have realized that something wasn’t all the way right; him having to turn the lights on in a room that someone else was already supposed to be occupying.

The door slammed at their backs and Liam and Louis turned to reopen it for Grimmy to come through, but there was weight against it.

“I’m sorry, Li! But you’re killing me!” Grimmy yelled at Liam through the door, his voice carrying over the distant sounds of the party. “You’re smoking all my weed, love. This has to be stopped! I’m going to go broke supplying you, mate!”

Liam listened in confusion as the door locked from outside the room.

Louis was the first to react. “What the fuck, Grim? Let us out of here. We’ll replace your fucking pot, you son of a—”

“You can bitch as much as you want, but he won’t unlock the door. We’ve been begging for half an hour.”

That distrustful motherfucker. Liam swears when he gets out of here, _and he will_ , he’s going to publish every bad picture Nick Grimshaw has ever taken in each magazine with available page space.

“Zayn?”

“It’s good to see you, Liam.”

He really, really should start listening to his father, no matter how much of a bastard he was.

-

There, in the corner closest to the one of only two windows in the room, Zayn sat on the windowsill with one leg bent at the knee and the other tapping impatiently on the floor. Harry is crouched beside his feet, head tucked in between his legs. Liam’s seen him around at school and it was never pretty; Harry was reserved now, but Liam could see him opening up more. He caught a smile in the hallway on Friday and Liam was glad that in this whole mess of a situation, someone seemed to be getting better.

Zayn didn’t look at him; the only acknowledgment of his presence had been his clipped sentence and a nod of his head when Liam first realized they were not alone in the room. Liam’s hands itched to reach out and touch him, hold him until the line of tension drained from his shoulders and the crinkles in between his eyebrows faded away with the soft press of Liam’s lips. But Liam was a graduated member of _Louis’ Tomlinson’s School of Showing No Emotions_ , and his face was trained to perfection in regards of looking impassive.

“This is stupid,” Louis argued through the door, still set on making his escape through the thick wooden barrier that separated them from a falsely apologetic Grimmy. “You’re not being _cute,_ Nick. Open the door and let us out of here. None of us have anything to say to each other.”

“You have plenty to say to one another,” he replied. “You just won’t, because neither of you will stay in the same room long enough to do anything but yell and then leave. Niall and I aren’t opening this door until you fix things.”

“You bleach-blonde bastard, you were in on this?”

Niall’s laugh sounded from the other side of the door. “Guilty,” he conceded. “Me and Grim had a shit of a time swindlin’ you lot in there, so suck it up! We’re going downstairs, but we’ll be back to check on you later. Have fun, lads!”

Liam stands dumbly by the door, unsure of what to say, then he slides down the wall to take a seat. He doesn’t think they’ll be able to figure out a way to remove themselves from the confines of these four walls, but he knows Niall and Grimmy will have no choice but to open the door sooner or later. Liam does his best to ignore the pull of his body to Zayn’s. There lies familiarity in eliminating the space between them.

To suppress his instincts he squished his hands underneath him and pulled his knees to his chest. Louis actions were hurried and frazzled; shaking the doorknob for all that he was worth and ramming his shoulder against the doorjamb without success. Liam pulls at Louis’ pant leg and urges him to take a seat to the left of him.

Louis’ head shakes from one side to the other. “No, I’m not doing this.” His hands fell flat on the door. “This is _dumb._ There has to be some way out of here.” He kicked hard at Liam’s legs. “Get your ass up and help me shove this door open.”

Liam would love to help Louis get out of this room, and by association evacuate himself as well; but his brain was on overload. He wasn’t drunk enough to handle the lingering smell of smoke and light hints of cologne that screamed _Zayn_ to his senses. Liam’s brain wasn’t foggy enough to cover up the heavy weight of his sorrows, or his impulse to cradle Zayn’s sharp-featured face in his hands and make their coupled pain go away. Liam would love to help Louis right now, but he was frozen in this spot and even if the door opened right then, Liam wasn’t sure he would be able to give his legs the request to move.

Louis began yelling when Liam didn’t respond to his demands; commanding that someone, _anyone_ open the door.

“We don’t want to be here any longer than you do,” Zayn said. Liam’s head snapped up quick enough to see Zayn turn his head at the last second, leaving Liam to stare at the profile of Zayn’s face wrapped in billows of smoke coming from the stick of tobacco in his fingers; overshadowed by what Liam read as annoyance and anger. “Pipe the fuck down. Grim will let us out sooner or later.”

Liam’s could feel the pressure on his face as his brows furrowed. Zayn had every reason to be hostile towards Liam, but his tone was far too harsh to be addressing someone who was trying to assist all of them in getting the hell away from one another.

“You don’t have to be rude,” Liam whispers. He fully intended to speak loudly with more clarity, but his voice betrayed him at the last second. “He was just trying to help.”

Zayn turned to him and Liam wished he would have kept his mouth shut. If he was having trouble staying still when Zayn was partially facing him, it was worse when he looked him in the eye; even worse when Zayn’s face softened and his lips parted softly in a way that drove Liam just to the brink of insanity.

“We’ve been in here for ages,” he said, addressing Liam and speaking sweetly to him like he would a child; dulcet and with his head tilted; pitying Liam’s naivety. “There’s no way out, babe.”

 “Don’t,” he said, still soft-spoken. The term of endearment catches Liam off guard and barely shakes his determination not to reach out to Zayn. “Don’t,” he repeats.

With Zayn being as clever as he is, he catches on quickly and Liam can see the apology in his face and the twitching of his fingers; itching to reconcile his wrongs. “It slipped out, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, you guys,” Harry lifts his head to speak. “If any one in this room has a reason to make up, it’s you two.”

Liam moves his head to gauge Louis’ reaction at the first words Harry has uttered since the pair of them had stepped into the room. Unlike Liam, Louis was much more practiced in hardening his features. And even if he could see the flicker of hurt in Louis’ face, stemming from Harry’s comment not being directed at him, Louis shoved whatever emotion he had left down somewhere deep and sank to his bum beside Liam.

Feeling sorry, Liam tossed an arm over his shoulders and smiled at him when Louis mustered up a genuine grin, signaling to Liam that they would be okay. Niall would unlock the door soon and they would return to their respective homes and put the idea of Harry Styles and Zayn Malik to the back of their minds until school on Monday morning. And they would repeat the process, over and over and over again until Geoff said it was time for them to continue their education at London Prep; far away from what Liam was certain were the first people they had ever loved outside of one another.

In hindsight, showing affection to Louis in front of Harry and Zayn wasn’t the greatest idea; not with the speculation of their friendship being the cause of the issues stewing between his best mate and the broken boy across the room. Liam looks up to see the lit end of Zayn’s cigarette flare up from the inhalation of Zayn’s lips and when he opens his eyes, Liam and Louis are met with a less than kind stare.

“Mind your own business, Harry.” The raven-haired boy extends the heavily-inked length of his arm and smashes the end of his cigarette into the splintered wood of the windowsill. “It’s over.”

On the last part he locks eyes with Liam, sending him the message with conviction. He does retract his arm from Louis then to bring it to his chest. He coughs at the physical impact Zayn’s words had over him, but he never looks away. He can’t. They fall into the familiar bubble they were so used to creating for themselves, and the only person Liam could feel in the room was Zayn.

This was the end. Liam knew it would come sooner or later, he wasn’t dumb nor naïve. He just assumed when the day did come, he would have time to dull down his senses. After such a long time of being in touch with his feelings for one person—after centering his world on the light tones of Zayn’s laugh and the bowed part of his lips—Liam knew he wouldn’t make it through hearing those words without the comforting weight of amber-colored bottles in his hand, or the distracting side effects held within the contents of a small plastic baggy.

It was damaging, but as was everything else about love; so why shouldn’t heartbreak have the equal effects?

“Is it,” he asks selfishly, knowing Zayn doesn’t want to answer the question any more than Liam wants to ask it. “Are we over?”

Zayn jumps up and he barely manages to not hit his head on the window. “Fuck, Liam, I don’t know.” Liam sees Harry and Louis watch the both of them with bated breath, but Liam doesn’t react to Zayn’s outburst. He doesn’t have it in him to stand and fight with him. Liam’s never really had it in him to go against Zayn, but today, with Grimmy catching him off guard, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than let Zayn release the anger from his chest.

“What am I supposed to do,” he yells, the lump in his throat evident. “You won’t talk to me and you won’t answer the phone when I call—”

“Call to say what,” Liam asks. He’s still seated and his voice doesn’t boom as loud as Zayn’s does, but he feels it has equal impact. “Are you calling to tell me you’re done keeping me in the dark?”

The anger doesn’t exhaust from Zayn’s face, if anything, it increases. But he stays quiet, lips screwed up in an angry frown and Liam takes his silence as confirmation.

“That’s what I thought,” Liam mumbles. “Nothing.”

“Then stop fucking calling me if you don’t think I’m worth the time.” Zayn steps closer to Liam, and he feels Louis tense at his side. Zayn’s eyes bore into his own and guilt washes over Liam for admonishing Zayn for trying to get a hold of him, when Liam had been dialing Zayn’s number verbatim every night. “I know it’s you, so if you’re done with me then stop fucking blowing up my phone.”

It’s become a reflex for Liam to shut off all harboring thoughts of Zayn, so when he says: “My fucking pleasure,” he doesn’t really mean it. Nothing would displeasure Liam more than to let Zayn walk out of his life for good. 

But as much as he wants to look past it, he can feel himself and Zayn going around and around; circling their problems but never attacking them face on. And Liam can’t ignore that.

“What happened to you, Li?”

He wants to laugh. _You_ happened to me, he thinks.

Zayn shuffles closer and when Liam shrinks back, Louis stands up in his unneeded defense. The only harm Zayn could ever do to Liam had already been done and none of it had been due to the touch of his fingers, but the lack of them.

Zayn is unfazed and he looks down at Liam from a few paces away. “This isn’t you, babe.” He doesn’t look sorry for the moniker and Liam can’t imagine that he is. “You aren’t this person. You’re not cold and mean and you aren’t scared to look me in the eye.” Liam looks away, as if following the script of Zayn’s dialogue, but really needing a moment to collect himself with Zayn’s eyes trained on him like they were; kind and confused and a little angry, but asking questions that Liam was ashamed to unveil the answers to. “Are you alright?”

No.

“He’s fine,” Louis snaps. “He _will be_ fine if someone would let us out of this goddamn room.”

Louis speaks at the same time Liam’s voice raises in tone. “I don’t need you to _fix me,_ Zayn.”

Because Zayn was the one who broke him and Liam had no pretty way to tell him that. Or maybe Liam broke himself. He could blame his problems on Louis or Zayn or his father, perhaps his mother, but Liam was an adult and he could bear the weight of his own troubles from here on out.

He stood, tired of Zayn having higher ground.  Liam wanted them to be on an equal playing field, instead of Zayn exalted on the pedestal Liam had placed him upon. “I don’t need you to fix me,” he says, jabbing his chest hard with his finger, “because I’m not fucking broken.”

It’s a lie and Liam notices the moment Zayn internally calls him on it, because Zayn knows him so well sometimes. Liam forgets that as opposed to where Zayn made Liam figure him out on his own; mixing information spoken from Zayn’s lips with his own observations, that Liam had shared everything with Zayn. And now it had come back to mock him.

“You spend so much time on everyone else,” Liam doesn’t miss the way Zayn’s head nods just a hint in Louis’ direction, “that you wouldn’t even know how to fix your problems if you wanted to.” He takes more sure steps toward Liam, the skittish hesitation gone; replaced with an air of arrogance in its wake.

He follows Zayn’s hand with his eyes as it travels to the front of Liam’s shirt and he brings the fabric to his nose; they’re that close. And if Liam’s hands are dug deeply in his front pockets to refrain from jerking Zayn’s smug face into his own; well, that’s his own business.

“You smell like a fucking bar,” he says. “And Grimmy’s bought two pounds from Niall in the three days.” He fixes Liam with a knowing stare. “And I know he’s not smoking it by himself.” His features become softer and his bottom lip is drawn into his mouth in worry. “This isn’t _healthy,_ Liam.”

Liam thinks it’s hilarious that Zayn is giving him shit for smoking weed, of all things. And he makes that known with a hysterical chuckle that has not only Zayn looking at him funny, but Louis and Harry as well.

“How else am I supposed to get over you, Zayn?” His hands fly out of his pockets and he exaggerates his point with flailing limbs; he picked that up from Louis. “How do you want me to deal with us not being together? I can’t do that sober! All I can think about is you,” he pants, breathing in deeply to catch his breath from the exertion of his outburst. “If you have a better way to get you off my mind, I would love to hear it. But if you don’t, I’m going to keep drinking and smoking. And I’m going to act heartless, even if you know that’s not me.”

He can feel the stinging in his eyes, but sadness is not an emotion he wants to feel, so he yells through it. “I don’t know how else to forget you! What do you want me to do?”

Liam’s yanked forward and for the split of a second, he thinks Zayn might punch him in the mouth or do something equally as brutal, but Liam can’t protest because a pair of lips is covering his own and Zayn’s hands are fisted in his shirt. Liam doesn’t want to be anywhere else but right where he is.

Liam’s hands find their way to Zayn’s hips and they fall into one another like Liam suspects they’re meant to. It’s an angry kiss; Liam’s mad and Zayn is too, but the same passion he uses to bite down hard on Zayn’s lower lip is the same passion he conjures up to soothe the mark with a flit of his tongue. Zayn’s pulling at him, everywhere. His hand travels from the front his shirt to his back to his neck and his nails claw into Liam’s skin while his tongue is busy licking the inside of Liam’s mouth.

Liam’s hands grip hard enough to bruise and he likes that idea. He likes the idea that prints of his hands will be embedded into the inked skin of Zayn’s waist while the bitter taste of the tobacco from Zayn’s cigarette will linger in Liam’s mouth when he wakes up in the morning. Alone. He’ll wake up in the morning alone and without Zayn. But because he’s rational right now, when normally the soft lips and whispered apologies might rival the fog of weed and self pity; tonight it isn’t enough. 

Kisses and hard touches won’t solve everything. As much as Liam wants to stay here, under the hands of the person he changed the outlook of his life for, he can’t. Because tomorrow morning when Liam wakes up, he’ll still have questions and Zayn still won’t have answers. And drugs and alcohol won’t be enough for Liam to get Zayn back and lose him for a second time.

Liam moans and gently guides Zayn away.

“Don’t,” Zayn whimpers, lip quaking and hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “Baby, please don’t push me away.”

His voice is so quiet; so hushed and so wrecked that Liam wants to curl in the middle of the room and cry; cry for himself and for Zayn; the both of them together. Things were so messed up and he could feel them going around in circles, neither one of them willing to take responsibility for the mess on their hands.

Liam closes his eyes and breathes; in and out, the air running raggedly through his chest. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t—”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Get off the windowsill, Louis, _Jesus._ ”

Liam was cut short when Harry’s hands wrung around Louis’ middle on the other side of the room. The bubble around him and Zayn popped and they were snapped back into reality. Where Louis had marched across the room to the window opposite Harry and was halfway ducked out, with the taller lad pulling him in by the waist. But Louis has really sharp elbows and Harry doesn’t look like he’s up for the dramatics, so Liam leaves his argument with Zayn at a standstill and shoulders Harry aside, yanking Louis inside forcefully.

“Stop being so dramatic, Lou,” he huffs, putting himself between Louis and the open window, glaring at him when his eyes flit to the only other window in the room. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not jumping out of a goddamn window.”

Louis’ instincts precede him and his hands rest on his hips, his stance annoyed. “Well I don’t want to sit around and watch you break your stupid heart all over again.” He’s defensive and pouting, but Liam can tell it’s effecting him and that makes Liam’s heart hurt even more; knowing he’s responsible for hurting two people in this room, not including himself. “And I don’t want to stand around with him,” he says, and _he_ doesn’t need to be addressed, because Liam knows he’s talking about Harry.

Louis’ voice lowers once he realizes how loud his voice was projecting. “It makes me sick to my stomach knowing…” His voice gets caught in his throat and Liam hugs him instantly.

Liam’s act of selfishness had been foolish and he was a right git for making Louis go through this alone. Whether he needed to handle things by himself or not, he was still Liam’s best friend and the evidence of Louis’ turmoil bubbling up in front of him made Liam feel awful.

He surveyed the situation over Louis’ shoulder; Harry standing with his arms crossed, lips parted, staring angrily at Louis’ back. Zayn mirrored Liam’s earlier position with his back to the wall, crouched down with his head in his hands. Someone really needed to open the door and let them all go their separate ways.

“You’d rather jump out of a window and _kill yourself_ than be with me,” Harry asks. Liam doesn’t think Louis would _die_ from a second story jump, but he can see the ludicrous in it. “Do you hate me that much?”

Louis steps away from Liam and he tries to stop him, but Louis is faster and he zips across the room before Liam can wrench him back by the collar of his shirt.

“You think I _hate_ you?”

“You just said that you would jump out of the window because I make you sick to your stomach.”

Louis scoffs harshly and Liam winces. He now knows how the pair of them felt watching things unfold between him and Zayn, who’s still hunched by the door; who also still holds every clichéd piece to Liam’s stupid in-love heart.

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” Louis says, inching his way to Harry. “I don’t hate you. It makes me sick to my stomach to watch you stand there with your dumb dimples and that ugly as fuck jumper, thinking I don’t _love you_ , Harry.”

Harry steps forward to reply, his hands pointing accusingly in Louis’ direction. “I told you I loved you and you _left._ ”

Louis throws his hands up, exerted. “I needed some time to think!”

“You couldn’t have said that when I went to your house?” Liam watches Harry crowd Louis’ space, using his height to tower above him. “Because I went over there—”

“And you started yelling things at me! You didn’t give me a chance; neither of you gave us a chance.”

It’s like a pull they have with one another, moving closer and closer until Liam has to look away, which is a terrible idea because his eyes land on Zayn, and his head is no longer hidden in his hands. He’s looking at Liam and both of them can hear the peaceful exchange between the two most important people in their lives.

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Haz; I do.”

And they know that should be them, and Liam doesn’t sense either of them know why that’s not them; why they couldn’t place their happy ending at the end of their long kiss, instead of with both of them in their respective corners, watching the most dysfunctional boy in the world hold into the person he just confessed his love to. 

It wasn’t fair.

But life wasn’t fair and this was the downfall to every high point in his life he’d experienced with Zayn.

“Louis…” he began.

“No,” Lou over annunciated, “don’t start with me, Liam. I deserve this.”

“You two haven’t said two words to each other in weeks and everything is all better?” Liam huffs in irritation. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m tired, Liam.” Louis holds Liam in place with a sad grin, and it makes him angry, because Liam doesn’t want anyone to look at him that way; like he deserves to be pitied. “I’m tried of being miserable and I’m tired of you being some weird shell of a person, drinking yourself better with Nick fucking _Grimshaw_. So don’t waste your time telling me how much love sucks when you could be making up with Zayn.”

Liam screws his face in frustration at Louis’ sudden change of heart. When had he become the level-headed one? When had he become the one to take advice from? Liam was the one who had all his ducks in order, or he was supposed to be.

“We tried,” he explains, defending his and Zayn’s failed attempts to repair the faults between them. “We’ve been trying.”

“No you haven’t,” Louis shouts, stalking towards him. “You haven’t and you know it.” He pokes hard at Liam’s chest with an air of irritation. “If you want him, you can have him. You said it yourself; people like us don’t get chances like this.”

“Maybe I was wrong.” Liam’s hands shake and he can’t ever recall being this annoyed before. He hates this. Liam hates that Zayn has this much power over his emotions. He hates that; he used to love it, but now he can see how Louis used to think all of this was rubbish; an opinion he no longer holds, obviously.

Louis slaps his arm. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Liam’s response gets lost in his throat when the door slams open and Niall’s smiling face is on the other side. He’s never been more relived to see the Irish lad. There was tense air around all of them when Niall asked how everything was going. Harry and Louis gravitated towards one another but Louis’ eyes remained on Liam, prompting him to make a decision and Harry fixed Zayn with the same loaded stare.

Zayn was right there, silent and looking past Liam to Harry, and when he did look at Liam, he just looked tired; worn out. His smile was watery and it broke Liam’s heart, it did. That this thing between them had reduced each of them to pitiful messes in separate corners of a room.

And Liam didn’t want that for Zayn. He didn’t want them to argue or fight or bring one another to tears. He loved Zayn and that made Liam’s decision easier. It cleared his thoughts and he made an unselfish decision for the first time since he’d first pressed a bottle to his lips and requested that it take all his troubles away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, thinning his lips into an apologetic frown.

Liam’s feet moved to their own accord, leaving behind promises of laughter but also pain. And he would delete Zayn’s number but never his memory. And Zayn would find someone else to share secrets and late-night kisses with. Zayn would smile again and ride his skateboard down the hallway with some other lucky guy; someone he didn’t have to speculate about and someone who might find a way to treat him better than Liam had in the last few days. And that person wouldn’t walk out and then call Zayn, silently begging him for something Liam couldn’t quite put his thumb on.

He did the best thing he could do for Zayn; because Liam was kind of fucked up beneath his carefully put together exterior and Zayn deserved someone who didn’t crack under pressure.

Liam strong-armed his way past Niall and walked out of the door, down the stairs and to his car.

He left for the last time; he didn’t plan on coming back.

 

**/////**

 

Three weeks was a long time.

A lot could happen in three weeks, Liam had noticed. It had taken about the same amount of time for Zayn to openly admit he and Liam were in a relationship, but six minutes was nearly all it took for everything to come tumbling to the ground.

Six minutes was a short amount of time, but it was also how long it took Liam to drive himself back home and lock himself in his bedroom to cry. Maybe it had been longer, perhaps fifteen minutes? Yeah, fifteen sounds remotely correct. It had been fifteen minutes.

But Liam laid there for hours. He’d done as he’d wanted to when his eyes bore witness to how fucked up he’d let everything get and he buried himself under the covers and let everything out. He cried over stupid reasons and important reasons; everything from how his check engine light had blinked mockingly at him on the ride over to how life had similarly mocked him by allowing him to have something and allowing him to throw it away.

He didn’t want to think about that, honestly. Zayn was the one to hide parts of himself away, but Liam was the one who’d made the decision to walk out. That was all on him. But for a few hours he let himself off the hook and he ignorantly bestowed the guilt on anyone who could come to mind and he wet his pillowcase with evidence of his own stupidity.

That was four hours.

One hour was all it took to convince him to turn off his phone, filled with voice messages from Louis and Zayn, and a handful from Grimmy and Niall as well. Harry had sent him a text _: im rooting for you two <3_. Liam deleted it and handed his phone over to the technician, prompting him to remove Liam’s SIM card and replace it with a new one. One that didn’t hold messages of cried apologies and angry texts that Liam could obsess over. An hour a half later he was handed a new phone and a sticky note with his new number written on it.

It had only taken Liam a few seconds to decide to change his cell phone number. It felt like the wrong thing to do, it felt far too final; but that also made it feel like the right thing. It made sense in his mind, if that counts.

Four hours, a physical, and a written agreement to intern for his father in the summer and Liam was signing papers to reenroll his self into his old school. Liam was almost a month ahead of schedule, but when he volunteered to sign over his life to the devil he’d mustered up enough leverage to get as far away from public school as he could.

Louis would get credit for being the most nosy and possibly most annoying person on the planet when it took him precisely one day and some change to discover Liam’s most recent cell number in his mum’s notes lying out in the open on her desk. (It had taken twenty minutes for Geoff to twist Liam’s arm far enough for him to allow Jay to be his secretary. It seems as though she’s been preparing for one of the young men in their conjoined family unit to do something prestigious enough to imbed herself in any upcoming fame. Not surprising at all.)

Liam took the call for twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds before he grew tired of being called an irrational git and a scared little boy. He hung up the phone and it only took him half that time, six minutes, to contact his phone courier and have his best mate’s number blocked from his cell.

Liam still had yet to get over the fact that he’d done that. Extracting Louis Tomlinson from his life, though it was only intended for a limited time, would take more than a couple of hours in the day.

According to his gym statistics, Liam had spent forty-two hours training his body for rugby and he’d spent the first week of practice taking up space on the cold metal of the bench. One week and three days later he was gaining field time and fifteen minutes after the game where he’d played first string, he’d sat down for his first official interview. Less than half a second later Liam had replied that yes, he would be pursuing sports in Uni and hopefully professionally after that if fate allowed.

Immediately everyone knew that meant he would gain as much press attention from local papers until he established enough credit during his internship to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Liam couldn’t spend long nights in dark and seedy pubs with ink-skinned boys when he followed in his father’s footsteps. It didn’t take him any allotted amount of time to discover that, because it was something he’d already known.

Topshop agreed to let Liam hang around forty minutes after closing to pick new clothes from their racks. He couldn’t bring himself to sulk around in clothes that lingered of Zayn’s scent and memories; like the red and white baseball tee that Zayn loved so much, or the jeans that fit well enough around his bum to make Zayn eager to get him into Harry’s room.

Liam was almost thankful that they never spent much time at his house; he doesn’t think he’d be able to convince his father to abandon his house so Liam could breathe without the reminiscing of his time with Zayn choking him up.

But the recollection of Zayn’s sweet and child-like smile had no sense of time as it was ever present; replaying in his brain. And that’s what he was doing all of this for; so Zayn could return to that and Liam could move on with the life that his father had planned for him.

He spent twenty-two minutes of his life trying to smoke that image out of his brain before he gave up and flushed the remainder of his joints down his toilet and he spent the next hour on his hands and toes, doing pushups and letting the adrenaline rush through his brain before he tucked himself under the covers.

Three hours later he was asleep.

In two weeks time, Liam had worked up enough repressed anger to fracture the collarbone of a member of the opposing team and he’d gotten his fist big article in a paper outside of London; some rubbish piece about injuries where he’d only been listed in passing as a statistic. He’d endured dinner with his father and Louis’ dad for an hour after that. 

Liam sat in his room three weeks following the last time he’d laid eyes on Zayn and he wanted to spend his well-deserved night off sipping on something stronger than the energy drinks and Gatorade he’d been drowning in. But he had a game tomorrow and he could not. _Another week, another drink_ was his motto now that he’d filled his schedule enough to not have time to drink himself into a state on unhealthiness.

He wasn’t near as clever or as good with words as Zayn, so that had taken him a good thirteen minutes to come up with.

Liam was on the phone with Jay, he checked his watch, and it had been four minutes. That was four minutes too long in his opinion, but he had to be set up for interviews and take calls from University scouts. He was thankful that Jay would have to deal with the majority of that headache.

In one hour’s time and a fairly decent ten minute doze, Jay had an interview arranged for Liam that night, prior to his big scouting game for the mediocre season he’s barely been a part of. Liam would love to examine the thought process of anyone that considered Liam’s two week homecoming to his old team worth scouting. He agreed to leave the door unlocked so he could finish up on some of his homework while he waited for the reporter to come by after her night shift.

So here he was, three weeks later and that much closer to setting his life on a different course, one in the opposite direction of Zayn. However, as much time as he’d spent getting himself in good enough shape to move on with his life, he knows he would have to make a serious effort not to give in to his heart’s true desires should Zayn ever show up on his doorstep.

Three weeks, two hours and a few minutes was all it took for Zayn to do just that, and Liam only had a few seconds to work out how he was going to do to push himself through that incredibly fucked up situation.

\--

Liam had finished his homework and tucked it away in his backpack. He had trouble, because while he was mustering his way through prepositional phrasing and allusion, all he could think about was Zayn, and how brilliant he was at this. How he never had any difficulty with paraphrasing the involvement of characters; how his fingers ghosted up Liam’s back while he mockingly looked down at his school work and easily told Liam the answers so they could get back to whatever they were doing.

And Zayn would laugh at Liam’s frustrations and kiss away the pout of his lips while he distracted him. After a heated round of Liam entering Zayn over and over until he came in between their bellies and Liam had filled up the condom, his hands fisted in the sheets beside Zayn’s head; they would go for a walk outside. Zayn would smoke a cigarette and ride around on that skateboard of his, and Liam would be too caught up in Zayn’s graceful movements to pay attention to where he was going.

He would trip and fall, and Zayn would follow him to the ground, laying atop him and giggling into his neck, and they would start all over again; hands teasing in the middle of the road, not caring if a car came or if someone saw.

Yeah, something as mundane as English homework brought back all those memories and it made it hard to think, much less breathe.

But he did well. He didn’t pick up his phone to dial Nick’s number or trail down to the kitchen to open up a bottle of Scotch. This happened sometimes, but Liam had learned to deal with it, or he was learning. He took a deep breath and journeyed to the bathroom to splash water on his face. Breathe in, breathe out; breathe in, breathe out.

He calms himself down and grabs a hand towel on his way out to pat his face dry.

“You’re a hard guy to get a hold of.”

Liam’s hands drop from his face because he knows that voice. He’s heard that voice laugh and scream and whisper. That’s Zayn’s voice.

As soon as the towel uncovers his eyes, he wishes he would have kept them concealed; kept the sight of Zayn from his line of vision. He’s sitting at Liam’s desk chair. The one he just evacuated because he couldn’t handle the though of Zayn and now he was sitting before him, playing with the cup Liam held his pens in, like it wasn’t a big deal for him to be here.

But he plays it cool, because he’s worked hard over the last three weeks to manage his feelings; bottle them up so they wouldn’t consume him. He shrugged nonchalantly, sitting on the bed because he was genuinely worried his knees would fail him if he didn’t. “Uh yeah,” he starts. “I got a new phone number, sorry.”

“Was that because of me?”

 _Yes._ “No,” Liam lies. “I can only hide from Grimmy in the hallways at school for so long,” he says, laughing uncomfortably. His hands find interest in a string that’s fraying from his bedspread. “And Lou’s kind of a pain in the ass right now, so…”

Zayn laughs and Liam tries not to flinch at how forced it sounds. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says; and of course he knows how annoying Louis can be, he’s most likely been around him a lot lately. Liam feels for him, that can’t have been easy with Louis’ disgustingly high libido and his nonexistent issues with public displays of affection. “So how’s school going? Well, I assume?”

Liam can’t express how much he does not want to be doing this right now, not with a reporter set to stop by and his much-needed press preparation with his coach; all excuses he gives himself everyday so his heart doesn’t betray his logic where Zayn is concerned.

“Why are you here,” he asks, trying not to sound harsh. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Zayn’s feelings even more, but this strained song and dance isn’t working for him. “I know you didn’t come all the way out here for small talk; we kind of suck at it.”

“We didn’t used to be so bad at it, remember? When we first met, we rocked at small talk.”

That trail of memories is something that definitely isn’t going to help lead Liam down the road to recovery.

“I’ve got a reporter coming over in an hour—”

Zayn stands up and moves hesitantly to the bed, where Liam is sitting and trying not to crawl out of his skin. He sits down but remains in his place, not stretching out or reaching for Liam’s hand. Liam doesn’t know if that makes him grateful or sad. “Will you listen to me for that hour? Just one hour? One hour is all I’m asking for.”

One side of Zayn’s face lifts with a grin, and Liam can’t withstand too much more of this. He’s so clever and so cute; remembering how Liam asked him out the first time. But a smile can turn into a frown just as fast and Liam doesn’t want that for Zayn.

Zayn’s hand seeks out his this time and Liam jumps up. “Zayn, I don’t want to do this with you, okay?” He puts his hand to his chest to even out his breathing. “I’m trying to be okay without you, but with you showing up here I can’t—”

Zayn stands up fast, getting to his feet and standing in front of Liam; right there, close enough for him to reach out and touch—“But I’m _not_ okay with that, alright? I don’t want to be without you. I’ve tried it, Liam, and it fucking _sucks._ ”

He thinks of everything he can, anything he has to counter Zayn’s argument, to prove him wrong. To showcase that he is better off without Liam. He remembers the conversation Louis relayed to Grimmy when they thought Liam lie sleeping in the backseat. “You told Louis we fucked up your life.”

“Louis has a big fucking mouth.”

His hands fall to Zayn’s shoulders, not because he can’t control himself but for emphasis. And maybe the first part, too, but whatever. “It’s true, though, is it not? I did mess you up and this is me trying to fix it.”

Zayn shrugs Liam’s hands off his shoulders, but instead of stepping out of his range he joins their hands and Liam nearly melts right there; as terribly cheesy as that sounds, his knees almost buckle at the familiar sensation of Zayn’s hands in his own.

“You _did_ fuck me up, because when I first saw you, you were this cool kid and you looked like a right asshole.” Liam frowns but Zayn chuckles at him and brushes his hands over his knuckles and Liam can’t be bothered to do anything but hold his face still enough to fight off a smile. “And you were wearing jeans that cost more than mine and Harry’s rent, and you drove a fucking _sports car_ to school.”

“It was Louis’” he objects, but Zayn shushes him with their joined hands to his lips.

“But you flirted _horribly_ with me,” he continues, smiling at the recollection, “and you made up some stupid yacht party so you could impress me with _my own_ weed. And you walked with me in the park and asked me questions.” Liam closed his eyes and only opened them when he felt Zayn move closer, resting his forehead against Liam’s and holding their hands in between them. “And you told me you loved me. So of course you fucked me up, because how am I supposed to go back from that?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers, tears burning at the back of his eyes because he can’t be selfish here; he can’t keep Zayn around only because Liam sucks at being lonely. “You’re so smart, Zayn. You’ll figure it out—”

Zayn’s breath spills across his face when he lets out a soft laugh. “I’m really not, Liam, but you believe that I am and that’s what I love about you. You believe in me and I love that. I love you. Please say we can work this out, because you said you love me and you don’t leave people you love.” Zayn’s rambling now, scared, like he knows Liam will turn him away if he’s not convincing enough. “Don’t give up on me, or leave me, or let me do that to you. Everyone gives up on me because I let them—”

“Who left you? Who gave up on you?” The long-standing subject comes up again and Liam takes a painful step back, so he can look better into Zayn’s eyes; find the truth he’s looking for. “I have no clue who left you or hurt you and I can’t do anything to help you get past that if I don’t know what I’m dealing with. I fix things, alright?” That’s all he really knows how to do. “And I can’t _fix_ this--”

“My dad,” Zayn says, stopping Liam and moving backwards to seat himself on the edge of the bed. “If you really want to know, it was my dad. I took some money from him when I was younger. I was dumb, but… everyone is dumb when they’re younger. I was just a little dumber, I guess.”

He shrugs it off like it’s not a big deal, and Liam doesn’t understand because it doesn’t seem like a big deal. Every kid has snuck money from their parents a time or two.

Zayn must read the expression on his face, not that it surprises Liam at all, but he explains further. “It was more than going out to eat on his tab, Li.” He huffs out a breath of air and combs his hands through his hair. “It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. He was a liar and a cheater. Liam, he cheated on my mum.”

Liam throws caution to the wind and squats in front of Zayn, taking pity and grasping his hands; trying to give him comfort. Because he gets how hard this is, admitting that your family isn’t as perfect as you dreamt it to be. “I know all about fucked up families, mate. I’m sorry he cheated.”

Zayn ignores him, and Liam tries not to be offended, but he lets him speak. “My mum used to take me and the girls to this Vegan place.”

“The Treehouse?”

He laughs to himself and untangles his hand from Liam’s, bringing it up and tentatively cupping the side of his face, making Liam uncomfortable with the intimacy and the way he stared. He looks at Liam like he’s the best thing in the world; the only thing. And that reminds Liam of before and he doesn’t much like it. “I forgot you’ve been there. _God,_ ” he sighs, “you’re so fucking amazing.”

Zayn’s eyes bore into him and Liam would go even as far as saying he’s looking into his soul, so he moves. He sits on his bed beside Zayn and makes himself comfortable, resting one leg beneath himself and dangling the other off the edge. Here Zayn has to turn to look at him, and to his dismay he does; mirroring Liam’s position and opening his mouth to talk more.

“She was so happy there, Li.” His face lights with the memory and Liam can almost feel the happiness radiating from him at the mental visual of his mum. “Happier than she was with my father at whatever stuffy country club he took her to, or when he made her dress up and go to dinner with his colleagues.”

The night when Zayn raised his glass to toast to _selfish_ _parents with fat wallets and even fatter egos_ resonates in Liam’s mind and he understands a bit better.

“They were going to get shut down for something as fucking crazy as not having enough money to repair the bathroom to pass inspection. And all I had to do was take the money he was leaving behind for his girlfriends, but…”

“But you got caught,” he finishes. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this criminal stuff?”

Thankfully Liam’s joke doesn’t fall flat, and Zayn’s smile is directed at him.

The mood gets lighter and Zayn’s hand balls into a fist and drops hard to his knee. “Shut up. This was before I started practicing with Niall. God, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” He folds his arms, but Liam can tell in the smirk on his face that he’s joking and _fuck,_ he really wants to kiss him. Bad.

“So what, he kicked you out?” He only asks because if Zayn doesn’t hurry up with the conversation, Liam is afraid he’ll do something stupid to fill the silence, like push Zayn to his back and—and just do stupid things that he’s been working so hard to not _want_ to do.

“He was embarrassed.” Zayn ducks his head bashfully. “I _might_ have given away more than necessary, and he _might_ have been using some of his client’s money to take out his dates. So yeah, I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“You ran away?” Liam couldn’t imagine running away. Well, he could and he often did, but he couldn’t actually imagine going through with it. There would need to be a good enough reason to leave everything behind and he would have to weigh the pros and cons of what he could be missing out on if he stayed.

Zayn shrugs and all Liam wants to do is hold him extremely tight in the embrace of his arms. “My mum offered to come with me, but Safaa is so young and they need him more than they need me.” He smiles sadly at Liam, his face withdrawn; remembering. “I don’t think she really wanted to go anyhow. So she stayed and I promised to come back when he cooled off.”

“But you didn’t go back, did you?”

“You catch on quick, kid.”

Liam glares at him. “I’m just asking.”

Zayn shakes his head and smiles at Liam to make him aware that he was teasing. “I didn’t go back and they came looking for me.”

“Like a runaway search? Was it in the news or anything?”

“That’s how your loud-mouthed mate knows all my business.” Zayn’s hands find their way to Liam’s, but they don’t hold on, they just occupy the same space. “Leave it to that fucker to be proud that he watched the news _one_ time in his _whole life._ ”

Something doesn’t sound right. “Wouldn’t the school system flag for that? Wouldn’t they find you then?”

Zayn looks so small when he answers; the color drains from his face along with whatever emotion was left. Liam knows that face; he recognizes it from the mirror. He’d looked the same as a child, when he woke up to find his mum gone. “They stopped looking,” he says. “I got enough money to come to London and blend in for while. It didn’t even take that long before all the posters came down and there was a fresh story in the news. I took a risk with the whole school thing, forged a few signatures and no one blinked an eye.” Liam moves closer to Zayn on the bed when he casts his eyes down, unwilling to look at Liam straightforwardly. “They stopped caring, I guess.”

“Zayn, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Then why didn’t they come get me?” If Zayn shrugs one more damn time, Liam’s going to dislocate both of his shoulders. “That’s why I don’t like to go out much on your side of town, especially with everyone taking your picture all the time. You’re not even that _cute,_ ” he kids, shoving at Liam’s arm, “I don’t know why they’re so _obsessed_ with you, but I’ll be damned if Yaser opens the paper and sees me inside.”

“One, I’m _hot,_ okay? Don’t lie to yourself, babe.” Liam cups his face this time and he drags his thumb under his eyes carefully, taking him in, lighting up when Zayn beams back at him. “Two, he’s three hours away, love. At that, I doubt he cares about anything other than finding his son.”

Zayn shakes his head, but Liam holds on to him, even pulls him closer. Because Zayn _needs_ him, and even if he isn’t shedding tears, he must be sad. Liam would feel awful; he _does_ feel awful and it’s not even his own pain that’s being inflicted on him.

“They stopped looking, Liam.” He turns his head away, but Liam follows him, not allowing him to get away so easily. “I didn’t want to be there and they stopped wondering when I was coming around.”

“Zayn…”

He looks up fast and covers Liam’s hand with his. “But I’m fine with that,” he assures, removing Liam’s hand from his face and holding it instead. “I’m fine because I got a _new_ family. I met Harry when I went back to school and I knew him from a couple events I went to when I was little, but he looked different, had the tattoos and everything.”

Zayn doesn’t let him look away and Liam doesn’t think he wants to but it’s just a reflex now. But Zayn’s actually _talking_ to Liam, no matter how hard it may be to call on all the shit he was burying. Something about the raw truthfulness of the conversation made him feel lighter, and he hopes Zayn feels lighter as well after sharing this part of himself with Liam.

“Niall was already staying with Harry because his folks mostly suck too. I crashed from place to place until he brought me in and I stay there now. Harry’s _almost_ the best thing that ever happened to me and I love him for everything he's done for me. Promise. But he's not you.” Zayn bites his lips and out of habit, Liam reaches to unhook it, fighting back a groan when Zayn brazenly flicks his tongue out across Liam’s digit.

He takes Liam’s lack of protest as a sign of admission for him to get closer. He moves hastily to straddle Liam’s lap and something tugs in his chest when he sees the slight hesitation on Zayn’s face afterwards. Liam remembers when Zayn could climb on top of him and drape his arms across Liam’s shoulders without a second thought. Liam helps him along with a smile, dragging his fingertips from the tops of Zayn’s arms to his hands, catching them and placing them where they belong.

A light goes off in Liam’s head, a warning. Everything else up until now was safe, traces of comfort and friendship lingering in old nicknames and light touches. This was something different, something more; something akin to what they had before Liam bit the bullet and decided Zayn deserved more than he had to offer. But looking at him now, hearing this, Liam can see that Zayn is an adult.

Zayn is fully capable of making choices for himself. Just because he loved Liam, and Liam loved him in return, that didn’t give him the right to strip Zayn of his right to decide if Liam was worth the trouble or not.

This isn’t hard. This doesn’t feel strained. Liam can touch Zayn and feel him under his hands easier than he can push thoughts of him to the back of his mind. He can bunch his fingers in the fabric of Zayn’s shirt better than he can hold his hands still in his pockets, wary of reaching out and ghosting across skin he’s personally forbid himself from. This is what Liam wants, and if Zayn wants it too; if that smile shining down at him is evidence of Zayn’s happiness, then fuck it. Liam will swallow his pride and tuck all of his supposed selfless thoughts behind him and _be happy_.

After all this time, Liam thinks they both deserve to be happy.

“I can't kiss Harry’s stupid face,” Zayn says, confidence now restored as he makes himself at home on Liam’s thighs, “and he doesn’t laugh as cute as you do; ‘cause really that’s one of my favorite things about you. You know?”

Zayn prods at the side of Liam’s eyes, pushed up as a result of his grin. “His eyes don’t crinkle enough in the corners and he doesn't blow me in the morning.” Liam raises an eyebrow and admires the lines in Zayn’s throat when his head falls back in laughter; such a sweet sound to Liam’s ears. “Although, if he did try to put his mouth anywhere near my dick I’d probably punch him in the face; on mine _and_ Louis' behalf.”

He fingers the hairs behind Liam’s neck, looking down from his elevated position over Liam’s face, bringing their foreheads together and laughing when Liam sighs in relief at the feeling. Zayn gets it. He gets that Liam can feel the difference in his touch. He can feel the ease in which Liam’s hands slide up his back, because there isn’t a barrier there anymore.

The only thing that’s between them is each other; something Liam suspects was the problem the entire duration of their pointless, petulant argument. They raise each other’s spirits, and Liam can see past the false pretenses of his knight-in-shining-armor act. Zayn doesn’t need anyone to fix him because he’s only broken without Liam; a mirrored side effect that Liam has when he’s without Zayn.

Zayn tugs on his hair, raising his face and bringing him out of his thoughts, back to the present; back to him. “So I won’t let you go Liam. I _won’t._ ” He breathes his plea into the air in front of Liam’s lips, teasing him with the ghosting of a touch here and a sensation there. “Please just work this out with me. I’m _done_ keeping secrets; anything you want to know, I’ll answer. I’ll do it, just please…” he begs; for a reason that’s lost on Liam, because Zayn won Liam over a long time ago.

He smiles at Zayn to let him know just that; that he can stop pleading and asking Liam for forgiveness that Liam doesn’t even have the power of bestowing, because both of them were wrong; or maybe neither of them was. Fuck it, Liam jerks Zayn’s hips into his lap with the squeeze of his hands at Zayn’s backside. Zayn tugs his lip back into his mouth, less shy and more coy.

“I love you and I _miss_ you,” he says, delighted to drag his hips over Liam’s. “Also, if I have to listen to Harry gush over _Louis fucking Tomlinson_ one more time while I’m missing out on you, I’m gonna go crazy.”

“We wouldn’t want that.”

Zayn dips his head to speak into Liam’s ear. “All I really want is _you._ ”

Liam laughs, the feeling foreign to his chest as of late, but it’s good to do that again. It feels fantastic.

Zayn feels fantastic.

“Who’s the cheesy one, now?”

Zayn wiggles in his lap, forcing himself backwards and Liam unfastens his hand from Zayn’s waist to catch his head before he falls to the mattress.

“Still you, Liam.”

Liam takes in their position; their bodies aligned, chest to chest and nose to nose. So close to what they both want and need at this point. Liam leans down to nose at Zayn’s chin, reveling in the hard itch of what feels like scruff.

“Can I kiss you,” he requests at his throat, hesitant to touch with his lips, but wanting to badly.

“That would be fucking awesome.”

Liam does as he suggested and presses his lips below Zayn’s ear. “I missed you too,” Liam words into his skin, trailing his hands along his sides, re-familiarizing himself with the body underneath him.

“I can tell,” Zayn sighs, shifting under Liam’s weight and turning his head, pouting when Liam barely escapes his lips.  “I thought you said you wanted to kiss me.”

“I _am_ kissing you,” he says, speaking into Zayn’s clavicle. Zayn’s hands move of their own accord, falling over Liam’s back and then to his ribs, attempting to hitch him up higher when Liam dips to press his lips to Zayn’s covered chest.

“You know what I want, you fucking tease.”

His breath hitches when Liam lifts his shirt, leaning back for a while to train his eyes on Zayn’s torso before lowering himself and following the inky lines of the older boy’s tattoos with his mouth. He stops to suck a kiss into ribs and chuckles softly when Zayn’s back arches up at the feeling.

“Liam,” he groans, unimpressed with the blatant ignorance of his requests.

“Hold on,” Liam replies at his waist. He nips at the dark blot of ink that forms a heart near the bone of Zayn’s hip. “I want to kiss you all over. I missed out on all of this. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

“ _Fuck,_ ” he pants. “That’s great and all, and _shit, —Liam I fucking swear—_ but I want to kiss you. Or you kiss me. I’m really not going to bitch as long as your lips are on mine.”

“Not cheesy, my ass.” Liam mumbles his reply into Zayn’s abdomen and moves up, leaning down to kiss his lips—

“Mr. Payne,” someone says, coughing uncomfortably as Liam averts his path to Zayn’s lips and looks over his shoulder to see a young lady waiting at the door. For a moment he’s confused, but he takes in the slick ponytail and the sensible shoes coinciding with the thick-rimmed glasses sitting on her nose and a clipboard and tape-recorder in her hands. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but Mrs. Tomlinson told me to let myself in?”

She’s the intern Jay had sent over to take a statement. Shit.

Liam’s head falls to Zayn’s collarbone and he sighs heavily, kissing Zayn’s neck and sitting up. He thoroughly plans on sending her away, but he intends to do it with some decorum; leading her to the door and such. Liam’s mum did raise him with respect, after all.

“What’s she interviewing you for?” Zayn poses the question and pulls down his shirt, readjusting himself in his pants and leaning up on his elbows. “You don’t have to tell me,” he reassures, “but I’m just curious.”

The way Zayn backtracks after questioning Liam’s agenda didn’t sit well with him, and he hoped that eventually they would fully return to the completely comfortable relationship they had before. He looks down at the bulge evident in the tight denim of Zayn’s jeans and smiles when he trails his eyes up to the flush of Zayn’s cheeks; a product of Liam’s apparent ogling.

The passion was still there, at least.

“It’s just something for the paper,” he says, the words coming out of his mouth on autopilot as his eyes connect with Zayn’s neck, and the pitter-patter of Zayn’s pulse point; signaling to Liam that he wanted more than just a kiss. “It’s for my dad.”

That snaps Zayn out of his slow grin and he sits up right. It almost alarms Liam at how fast the mention of his father sobers Zayn up.

“I can come back later tonight,” the woman says, and Liam feels guilty because he had yet to catch her name. “I’m already off the clock, but if you want, you can just phone it in or text a statement to my cell.”

The latter option sounds like a great idea, but Zayn shakes his head and climbs off the bed. Liam reaches out to catch him but Zayn slips out of his grasp, relieving Liam of his worry when he drops a kiss to his nose. “It’s cool, Li. I can come back later, tomorrow maybe?”

He comes around the bed and waits for Liam to scoot himself to the edge. Zayn twines their hands together and stands between Liam’s legs. “I know things are weird with your dad. We’re okay now—we are okay, right?”

Liam nods and leans forward to rest his head on Zayn’s stomach. “We’re more than okay,” he says, looking up and the dark-haired boy and sighing contentedly when Zayn untangles one of his hands and rubs at the back of Liam’s scalp. “Stay,” he mouths. “I can forget about the interview. I want you to stay here with me. I just got you back.”

“And you’ll have me tomorrow, you whiny boy. She came all the way here, don’t leave her hanging, mate.”

“I haven’t even gotten to kiss you yet,” he whines.

“Whose fault is that, Mr. I _Want To Kiss You All Over._ ” He slaps at Liam’s hands playfully. “I don’t know how I ever let you into my pants with those lines, I swear to god.”

As light as the tone is, Liam genuinely doesn’t want Zayn to leave. He won’t go as far as to say he never wants to let him out of his sight, ever, because there are certain things that even couples don’t need to do together. But as for now, he wants Zayn to stay with him. He doesn’t want to let something as silly as a newspaper interview put a hold on their reunion.

Liam has never had make-up sex, but he hears it’s really fucking amazing.

And as trivial as it seems, to Liam it’s a foretelling of what’s to come. Things for his father will keep coming up and Zayn will remain as a second priority now that he’s back under his father’s complete rule. It won’t be like last time, where Liam had distanced his self away from anything immediately concerning Geoff and he had all the time in the world to spend with Zayn.

“Would you like me to come back at a more convenient time, sir?”

He shakes his head and stands. Liam smoothes his hand over his shirt and silently makes the brisk walk to his desk to scribe his personal telephone number on a scratch piece of paper. Liam hands the loose paper to the intern and instructs her to text him in the morning, where he’ll provide her with an exclusive scoop to the end of his very short comeback to the college sports world. Flustered, she nods quickly and leaves Zayn and Liam in the room by themselves.

“Liam, I’m serious.” Zayn lays his hand on his arm reassuringly. Liam looks back at him and all the reasons why he’s doing this are reinforced by the sincere concern of Zayn’s face. “If this is important to you, I can wait. _This_ can wait, babe.”

Again shaking his head, Liam pulls Zayn into his arms. “It really, really can’t.”

And he kisses him.

It’s a long kiss, a kiss worthy of a long time reunion between two people so obviously in love. Liam opens his mouth when Zayn’s tongue trails the seam of his lips and it goes on from there. His hands fit into the tapering of Zayn’s waist like they’re meant to and Zayn winds his hands around Liam’s neck; the fluency in their familiar movements dizzying. Zayn’s mouth parts wider as a moan escapes him when Liam catches the fullness of Zayn’s bottom lip between his teeth. And Liam groans when Zayn stands taller and pushes Liam away for them to catch a breath of air.

“What was that for,” Zayn asks, panting from the high energy of the kiss; he noses under Liam’s jaw.

“I owed you one.”

Remembering what he originally stood to do, Liam sadly steps farther away. He placates Zayn with a gentle press of his lips when he squints in confusion at Liam’s retreat. “Hey, where are you going? What are you doing?”

Liam drags him along, out of his room and down to the main floor, where his father’s office is. “Something I should have done a long time ago.” After they march down the stairs and stop in front of a large oak door Liam stops and turns around to envelop Zayn is his arms just one more time.

“I’m done hiding and I’m done waiting for things to change,” he says, knocking on the door and swallowing hard when his father summons him to enter. “I’m done with him, Zayn. I’m done.

“Liam, you don’t have to do this. It’s not—”

He pecks Zayn’s lips again and turns the heavy knob. “I really think I do.”

Zayn nods and takes a step back, slipping his hand out of Liam’s and pushing him past the threshold, giving Liam the chance to do this by himself; _for_ himself.

“Okay,” he says. “But when you get out, we’re increasing your adjective use; _really_ is not the only word you can use for emphasis, babe.”

Liam scoffs. “Says the person who’s failing English _on purpose_.”

“Go talk to your father, you ass. I want more than a fucking kiss, so don’t take your time.”

**/////**

“Dad?” Liam steps lightly onto the carpeted floor of his fathers office, careful not to make too loud of an entrance should he be in the middle of something more important.

Geoff doesn’t turn in his seat, but he nods his head in Liam’s direction to let him know he’s caught his attention. “Hey son,” he calls over his shoulder. “You ready for the big game tomorrow?”

He stacks paper in front of him, still not turning his chair to face Liam so they can have an actual two-sided conversation. Geoff also hardly ever calls Liam his son without a shred of contempt or shame in his voice, and the absence of either makes Liam shift his weight nervously on the balls of his feet. That’s pretty pathetic, he thinks; feeling strange when his father calls on him fondly.

Liam swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m not playing in tomorrow’s game, dad.”

Apparently Liam isn’t to be taken seriously enough for Geoff to harbor serious concern of him going back on his word. “Of course you are, Liam. Didn’t Jay set up an interview for you tonight? Is she late? Is that what has you upset; because if so I can arrange for Jay to set up another—”

“I sent her home,” Liam says, walking farther into the older man’s space, ready to do something, even if he’s not exactly sure what. But one thing he did come here to do was reinforce that he’s not bending to his father’s will anymore, not if it didn’t coincide with what Liam wanted for his life. “I’m done with interviews, dad. I’m done pretending to be happy for you. All of this isn’t me, you know? I think it’s time for me to do my own thing.”

The broad back of the leather chair moves and Liam is suddenly face to face with Geoff, whose eyes fall behind Liam and land where Zayn’s standing just behind the door frame. Liam’s eyes follow the movement of his father’s hands; they rise to the top of his desk and he folds them in a peculiar fashion before he looks back to Liam.

“I assume this is because of him?”

Liam’s head shakes from left to right. “I’m doing this for me. This is because of me. I’m calling the paper in the morning for the press release of my official withdrawal from the team, and I’ll have my internship cancelled by the end of the week.” He has to close his eyes for the duration of his informant speech because he’s scared. Liam won’t lie, his dad is scary as fuck when he’s on a power trip, and Liam was stripping him of whatever hold he would have on him from here on out. It was bound to make him angry.

“I’m not letting you throw your future away for some _nobody._ ” He stares Liam down and fixes him with a glare to enforce his words. “That won’t happen, Liam.”

“He’s somebody to me,” he reinforces. Liam stalks close enough to stop at the guest chairs in front of the wide wooden desk and he rests his hands on the cold metal making up the back of the seat. He leans forward, not in an intimidating way, but to show his sincerity. “I love him, dad; and if you don’t like that, I’m sorry. I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m tired of lying.”

His father’s face hardens at the mention of love and Liam’s heart sinks a little bit. In the back of his mind he knew this was a possibility; Geoff closing up any form of an open mind he might have to Liam’s newly decided choices.

“You won’t live in my house and not contribute to this household,” he says, voice colder than it was before, the false sense of warmth gone and replaced with the true Geoff; the one that responsible for so many fucked up things in Liam’s childhood. “You’ll do the press and play as many games as it takes for the Payne’s to become a more household name. I won’t fight you on this.” He straightens a pile of papers Liam can promise don’t need to be straightened, but he assumes he makes his father sick enough not to be able to look his way.

“I can move out if you want me to,” he suggests harshly, annoyed that he was trying to do something noble here and his father was still huffing out demands at him. “I can think of a thousand places I’d rather be.”

His dad stares at him disbelievingly and then a sly grin appears on his face, as if he’s taunting Liam. “I’ll take everything from you,” he leers. “You won’t turn your back on me and get away with my money.”

Liam laughs, honest-to-goodness full out laughs. A full bellied laugh. “You think I want your _money?_ I’m doing this because I _don’t_ want your money. I just want to be happy, and Zayn makes me happy. Being with my friends makes me happy.” Liam frowns at him, because he’s earnestly sad to say what’s about to come out of his mouth. “But you don’t make me happy, dad, and I’m not your puppet or your next big thing. This shit means nothing to me anymore.”

He waves Liam off with the sway of his hand, chuckling. “I’ve dealt with this before, son. You’re not the first one to try and pull this crazy idea over on me.” He circles back around to the paperwork on the back half of his office. He offhandedly dismisses Liam with a curt nod of his head to the door. “Come back when you’re ready to try again with something more original. I’ll have someone sent over for that interview bright and early in the morning. Close the door on your way out, yeah?”

Liam shakes with embarrassment and irritation. He doesn’t see why this has to be an argument. Why did parents who held a bit more significance to society think that they could command their children to fall in line? Liam had never even had time to discover what he wanted to do with his life, because he’d fallen under Geoff’s thumb so young that taking orders had become a factory setting to him.

Now Liam is coming to his father in hopes that he’ll work with Liam; maybe change his mind when he sees how resistant Liam is to his plans, but unsurprisingly he fails Liam as a father for the trillionth time in a row.

“Is that why mum left,” he asks. “Because the idea of her being happy pissed you off? Maybe if she mattered to you, maybe if _anything_ mattered to you other than what people think about you or the balance of your banking account, she wouldn’t have ran off to find the first man that treated her right.”

At least his father gives him the time of day then. He stands from his chair but he doesn’t utter anything immediately. He doesn’t even have the dignity to appear hurt when he twists around to look across the desk at Liam.

He looks angry, if anything and Liam thinks if he was ever going to have a final blowout with his father, he’s glad the time was now instead of a few years down the road when Liam would have been in too deep to salvage any other career he would like to have in the future.

“Get out of my house."

He saw it coming, but it didn’t mean that it still didn’t sting. Liam was serious when he said he could think of many other places he’d rather be; albeit, it wasn’t quite a million, but he had an idea where he could crash until he figured something out. It wasn’t like he was sixteen and lost. He was eighteen, an adult. Liam was more than capable and more than willing to brave his way out into the world without his father pulling the reigns.

“I was just waiting for you to ask.”

He smiles sadly at his dad, taking in the wrinkles around his eyes and the fatigue in the rest of his body. He’s running himself into the ground and anyone who pays attention long enough should be able to see it. Liam can admit his heart breaks a little but there isn’t anything he can do. Liam won’t be a part of Geoff’s sinking ship, and even if he is Liam’s dad, he’s never done anything great by him, so why should the favor be returned?

Liam walks away from the right person this time and he laces his fingers with Zayn on his way out of the door. Zayn tries to apologize, but Liam doesn’t want to hear it. He goes to his room to phone Louis, but Zayn swats his phone away and tells him he has a ride outside and Liam relents and leaves his phone behind on the bed. He tosses his wallet behind, only taking out his driver’s license and old picture of him and his mum.

Other than Zayn, the things he’s shoved hastily into a duffle and the clothes on his back, Liam leaves it all behind.

He sees his father watching him from the kitchen, but Liam never lets his eyes wander long enough to make eye contact.

“If you walk out that door, don’t think it’ll be open when you want to come back.”

Liam laughs out loud, even if on the inside he does feel a shred of remorse. “Who says I plan on coming back?”

It was funny because Liam had no intention of stepping foot into his father’s house if he ever had a say; which now, he did.

 

**/////**

 

Liam breathes in the fresh air outside of his house and for some reason the crispness in his lungs brings an even brighter smile to his face. He looks beside him where Zayn is holding on to his hand, staring back at Liam with what can only be love. Liam knows he mirrors him in that effect.

“Hurry up, would you? All the people coming in and out of this place, you’d think you were running a brothel, Liam. _Goodness._ ”

Liam has to squint in the dark to see Louis sitting in the passenger seat of a car Liam has never seen before. Harry is behind the wheel, beaming at the pair of them. His curls are messier than usual and Liam doesn’t miss the spit-shiny mark below Louis’ jaw when the car light shines momentarily as Zayn opens the back door and pushes Liam inside. Gross.

He’s not sure of what to say, but Louis smiles at him through the rearview mirror after he pointedly glares at Liam for his absence. In the end his smile wins out and Louis is directing Harry to pull out of the driveway. Liam knows they’ll be okay. They’re _Liam and Louis_ ; it’s going to take more than a few weeks of much needed distance to break them apart.

“Sweet ride,” Liam says, chatting uncomfortably, attempting to break the silence as Harry drives them away from Liam’s house. A faint trace of nostalgia washes over him as he leaves his childhood home behind him. But Zayn pulls him as close as Liam’s seatbelt will allow and he kisses him gently. Liam is certain there will never again be a time when Zayn’s lips pressed against his own won’t make everything okay.

“Thanks,” is Harry’s reply from the front of the car. “Ni finally saved up enough of his weed money for us to share a car.” It’s not too shabby, if he’s honest. It’s no Porsche, but Liam has never been into flashy cars to begin with, and the roomy interior was enough to win him over. He could see Zayn, Harry and Niall in this car, definitely.

“Were you guys waiting out there the entire time?”

“Zayn very well didn’t ride his skateboard across town, Liam.”

Harry ignores Louis’ overly sarcastic reply. “The lads like to ride around on boards, but you can only go so far with ‘em. We got it last week, actually. I would have shown you, but…”

“But Liam still had his head stuck _incredibly_ far up his ass, then,” Louis finishes. Liam deserves that. Zayn kicks the back of Louis’ seat and Harry looks over his shoulder apologetically before Zayn kicks his seat as well, yelling for him to keep his eyes on the road.

Louis turns in his seat, and it looks to Liam that he and Harry are the only ones concerned with road safety as Lou wiggles around his seatbelt to speak to Zayn. “So did you un-stick his head from his ass, mate?”

Liam frowns at him; he’s laying it on a little thick; the shit.

Zayn makes a show out of raising their joined hands from Liam’s lap. “You could say that, you nosy fucker.”

“Make-up sexing didn’t take too much time. You must not last long.”

“I learned from you, hun.”

There’s a tender tone of teasing affection when Zayn speaks to Louis that Liam had never head before, but he’s glad that whatever differences they had, they’ve chosen to settle on their own behalves.

Louis huffs, and as he twists his body towards the front he catches the black duffel at Liam’s feet. “What’s with the bag?”

Liam remembers that he doesn’t necessarily have a place to go tonight, or any night after that. He doubts that after Louis’ mum finds out what happened she’d be willing to accept Liam into her home. In fact, Liam doesn’t know how she lets Louis into her house when he’s now blatantly ignoring his parent’s wishes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, bringing his free hand up to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. “Harry, is it cool if I crash at your place?”

Harry actually bounces in his seat. He _bounces._ Liam is starting to see the hard façade of his piercings and tattoos fade away. “You’re sleeping over? A sleepover’s always cool, man. We can invite Grim—”

“Uh, it’s going to be for a bit longer than that.”

Louis connects the dots faster than Liam expects and once again he’s contorting his body to force his head into the backseat. “You’re moving out? _No fucking way._ ”

Zayn rubs Liam’s hand and he crowds close enough for Liam’s head to drop on his shoulder.

It’s been a tough day in general on both of their parts, but Liam can honestly say leaving his father’s house took a lot more out of him than he originally predicted. “I can’t take any more of his shit, Lou.”

The old nickname makes one side of Louis’ face rise with a grin and he reaches his arm out to pat at Liam’s thigh.

“I’m proud of you, Li.”

“Thanks, I’m proud of myself.”

Liam thinks they’ve always sort of been looking forward to this, that maybe in the back of their minds all their wild rebellious stages were supposed to lead to this moment right here. Louis with the only person he’s loved outside of Liam and his sisters, and Liam with the one person who reflected his need to be free, to be away from the things holding them down.

Zayn wasn’t perfect and neither was Liam. Zayn had flaws underneath the striking exterior he held together so well. And Liam liked knowing that he mirrored those flaws. That where Zayn wasn’t fully alright, neither was Liam. It wasn’t going to be effortless. Liam had thrown all ties to any unnecessary part of his old life away, and he and Zayn still had things they needed to sort out.

Eventually there would be more secrets and more speculations. Liam would fuck up and Zayn would as well. They might refuse to speak to one another again, because both of them were stubborn as all hell, but Liam believed they would make it.

Forever was a strong word, but Liam couldn’t see himself without Zayn standing beside him. He didn’t want to walk around in a daze, trying to forget about the stubble on his chin or the feel of his hands. Liam never wanted to give up the vision of light shining on Zayn’s face, brought to them by the shitty quality of Harry’s living room curtains. He wanted to wake up in the morning and complain about the heavy weight of Zayn on his chest, although he wouldn’t dream of him falling asleep anywhere else.

The passing thought of losing Zayn made his throat close up, and that alone scared Liam more than he would like to admit. But it was a good kind of fear. It was the fear of diving into the unknown and trusting whatever was below not let you crash and burn. It was holding your arms out and trusting someone to not let you fall.

Or maybe Liam should fall. Maybe he already has.

It helped knowing he wouldn’t be going at this alone. This was new to not only Zayn, but Harry and Louis as well. His best mate would be there if Liam would let him. And from now on he positively would. He looked at Louis from where his head rested on Zayn’s shoulder and all he could do was smile.

Louis was there, smitten as ever, holding Harry’s hand in between the console and staring at him with a fondness that Liam doesn’t ever recall seeing before. And it makes him proud. He’s proud off all of them.

They’ve done so much; they’ve put themselves through so much. The days of tears and screams and regrets were behind them. He didn’t know what was in store for the lot of them, but he was in it for the long haul. Liam was all in now, all his cards were on the table. His heart was officially back on his sleeve.

The void that Liam had spent his childhood trying to fill now belonged to the boy beside him. They would guide one another past whatever trials might come their way. Liam’s seen what it’s like to be without Zayn, he’s felt it first hand. And he would fight tooth and nail before he let it happen again. It was and always would be the easiest decision Liam has ever had the pleasure of making to open his heart to Zayn once more; once he figured out Zayn was the _only_ person worth the risk.

Liam kisses Zayn’s shoulder when he whispers into Liam’s hair. “Look at them,” he says, gesturing to the front seat, where Harry and Louis were kissing at a red light. It was gentle and slow and more of a showing of affection than a desperate slotting of lips. “I’ve been waiting all month to show you that.”

“They look kind of like us, huh?”

And they did. Liam could see the newfound passion in the way Louis’ hands caressed Harry’s face; different from when all he wanted was sex. It was love now, not only lust. And Harry handled Louis with care, as he always had. Liam thinks he may have been in love with Louis for far longer than anyone realized.

Liam could appreciate that.

“Yeah,” he answers, “’s like looking into a mirror.”

Zayn laughs and pats at his thigh. “Hey, Lou, is that _love_ I see on your face?”

Liam grins into Zayn’s shoulder. “Are you _smiling_ while riding in a car that’s not later than a 2012 model?”

“You just shut your fucking mouth, _Liam Payne._ ”

Yeah, Liam would be just fine on his own. Because he wouldn’t really be on his own, he had everyone in this car, along with a peroxide-blonde Irishman and an overly exuberant Nick Grimshaw on his side.

He couldn’t imagine anyone else beside him.

 

**/////**

 

**_Epilogue_ **

Liam had never once thought that working with his hands would be his forte. Come to find out, he was right and minimum wage labor work at an old factory was really the shittiest way to put himself through University. It helped to know at the end of every week he would receive a paycheck with his name on it, and that filled him with an unfamiliar sense of pride and responsibility. Harry was also a champ and he signed on with Liam, even though his father would most likely fund him for the rest of his life, and in no way did he need the money. He was just being a good friend.

And Harry would only accept rent payment in the form of Liam keeping Louis occupied while Harry was scribbling down answers to his own University work.

Louis claimed to be a kept man now.

“Isn’t love supposed to pay all costs,” he had said one day after pointedly ignoring the papers highlighting his share of the bills on the coffee table. “Or something romantic like that?”

“I think you’re confusing love with Jesus,” Zayn replied from Liam’s side, forking food into his mouth and chewing soundly, twisting his carton of noodles out of Liam’s seeking hands. “Also, love doesn’t keep the lights on. Get a job, you _bum._ ”

“Jesus _is_ love, Zaynie.” Louis aims an eggroll at Zayn’s head, but it catches Liam in the chin instead. “Sorry we can’t all be skateboarding legends in the making, you _tit._ ”

Liam had been the most proud of all when Niall and Zayn got a phone call just before graduation, informing the both of them that they would be signed as sponsored skaters as soon as summer rolled around. Zayn rolled his eyes when Liam lifted him from his feet and swung him around a few times, but Liam knew he was just as ecstatic, even if his too-cool exterior wouldn’t allow it to show.

Grimmy appointed himself as their manager; mostly because Finchy was going out of town for University and he didn’t really have anything else to do for the summer. And Louis refused to stand around sweaty skater kids all of his days, so Grimmy was the cheapest and most convenient option.

Liam and Harry had to do a lot of begging at work to get time off to go see sketchy looking guys film Niall and Zayn skate. And even if Niall told them they didn’t have to attend every single session, they still stood in the heat every opposite weekend and held their breath when one of the boys propelled themselves a bit too high in the air. Liam envelops Zayn in his arms after they wrap each tape and Harry was always nice enough to pay for a celebration meal.

Niall was just extremely happy to get a check for doing what he’s always loved, with his best mates at that.

Liam was just proud.

Jay had reacted better to Louis’ longstanding relationship better than Liam expected. Or maybe it was worse. Once it became evident to her and her husband that Harry wouldn’t be extracting himself from Louis’ life any time in the near future, they originally planned to give him the same treatment as Geoff gave Liam. But the sole basis of Jay’s unimportant career revolved around her shit advice columns and whatever magazine would lower their standards enough to allow Mr. Tomlinson’s wife to spread her family’s smiling faces on their glossy pages.

Louis was a part of that family, and it crossed her mind that people would have even more trouble taking her seriously if she ever had to explain that she’d estranged her son for not fulfilling her wishes. So Louis got to keep his car and if he decided to further pursue his education, it would be paid for. As long as he kept his mouth shut and his face out of the paper.

Still, Liam couldn’t help but think he was being controlled and that didn’t sit well with him. He’d expressed his concerns to Zayn, who had peppered kisses underneath his chin and reminded him that he had promised to let Louis make his own decisions. He conceded and let Zayn wiggle him out of his pants.

It was hard to care about Louis’ moral standards with Zayn’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

Presently, Liam and Louis are waiting for their respective boyfriends to come out of the bathroom. They each teased the duo on how long it took them to finish their hair after a shower. As messy and natural as Harry’s curls looked, Liam can assure anyone that they take approximately twenty minutes to perfect. He’s not even going to think about the work that goes into Zayn’s high quiff.

It’s triple date night, plus Grimmy. Liam promised him that he wouldn’t be missing out on anything special, but months later and Nick was still using the fact the he was one-half responsible for why Liam, Zayn, Louis and Harry were even back together to worm his way into things. He, Niall and Samantha were meeting the rest of them at a run-down hole-in-the-wall restaurant in, Liam checked his watch, thirty minutes.

Louis is the victim of a viscous cold and he’s currently pressing his disgustingly stuffy nose into Liam’s collar while he’s subjecting Liam to a re-run episode of his old enemy; Gossip Girl. Liam rubs his back and presses a friendly kiss into his hair.  

Liam’s glad that he can do that again, now that Zayn and Harry had lightened up about the close nature of their friendship. He loves Zayn, but sometimes he secretly wants to watch bad teenage soap operas with his best friend. Not that he’ll ever admit his defeat to Chuck Bass’ charms to Louis. But on a serious note, he does try to be a bit more conservative with their platonic cuddling, out of respect.

Sure, Harry and Zayn are similarly close, but it wasn’t their comradery that broke the four of them apart. Liam still can’t believe that he almost didn’t get a chance to fully experience this. With everything going so perfectly now, he can’t imagine the person he’d be if he and Louis had let everything slip away from them.

Liam can hear Zayn curse at Harry in the bathroom and he chuckles along with Louis.

“How much do you want to bet Harry let Niall use the last of Zayn’s hairge—”

Liam interrupts with the overflowing of his thoughts. “Can you believe we almost passed up on this,” he asks. “It’s crazy to think _we_ didn’t think _they_ were worth it.”

Louis hums into his shoulder and shrugs nonchalantly, but the smile Liam can see on his face cancels out his unmoved sarcasm. “I guess it’s not too bad,” he says, sighing overdramatically.

His voice is louder than it was a few seconds ago, and Liam can see why when he notices Harry and Zayn emerge from the room out of the corner of his eyes. Matching Louis’ exasperation, Liam sighs heavily as well. “I guess you’re right.”

Zayn walks over to the couch and playfully shoves Louis out of Liam’s space and claims the gap for himself. Louis pouts until Harry wedges himself in what little room is left on the couch and lets himself become Louis’ new pillow. Zayn’s careful not to damage his hairstyle when he leans to the side to bury his face in Liam’s neck.

“You know you guys love us.”

Louis’ close enough to pinch Zayn’s leg. “I don’t love you, you little dick.”

“My dick’s actually pretty big, fuck you very much.”

Liam nods and accepts a kiss. “I can confirm that.”

Louis sneers in disgust. “Of course you do, you merry little bottom.”

“I don’t bottom all the time, you small-minded twat. We _share_.”

Harry stands up and pulls Louis with him, laughing at his boyfriend’s repulsion at a discussion he was at fault for bringing up. “As much fun as hearing you all come up with clever names to call one another, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Zayn captures Liam’s finger with a swatting hand when he catches Liam attempting to poke at his hair. Liam laughs at his over-concern for his carefully styled do. “If you girls didn’t spend an hour on your hair, we could have been gone ages ago, you know?”

Zayn stands abruptly when Harry tosses a pair of boots in his direction. He huffs over his shoulder at Liam and bends at the waist to lace up his shoes. “It wasn’t an hour. Don’t be a dick, babe.”

Anything anyone else said was lost on Liam, because Zayn’s ass was in his face. _Literally,_ right there, snug in a dark pair of jeans, and Liam wondered if he could get away with canceling and hauling Zayn over his shoulder to their makeshift room that had been converted from the old dining room.

It was a nice ass, okay?

Louis groans in annoyance when he notices where Liam’s eyes are trained; he only knows that because the sound prompts Zayn to stand upright and yank Liam to his feet. Liam’s hands found purchase in the previously mentioned ass and he jolted Zayn closer to him. He was tempted to see if Zayn would be pliant enough to let Liam stick his hands under his boxers—

“See? You love how hot I am, giant whine-ball.” Zayn teases Liam with a peck on the lips, leaning back when Liam tries to draw him back in for more. “You _love_ the quiff, baby.”

Conceited little shit.

“I just love you, in general.”

Zayn groans and squirms out of Liam’s hold. “Let’s go to dinner with our friends, you cheesy motherfucker. We’ll finish this when we get back home.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Zayn smiles over his shoulder and winks coyly at him. “You don’t.”

 

**-fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it, huh? did you love it? did you hate it?  
> tell me in a comment, oh how i love reading the comments you guys leave. 
> 
> i have to work on school 100% now but im totally working on another HS AU (all ziam growing up as besties and unrequited feeling and niall and eleanor are sassy cheerleaders and larry is stable and cute and everyone helps zayn out with his feelings brb crying) anyway, i hope you guys will like that as well.
> 
> whew, this is long.
> 
> follow me on tumblr or something, idk i just post a lot of ziam @thesesecretshurtlikehell...
> 
> and don't forget to tell me what you think! :D i love everyone who's stuck around to read all 80K words of this mess, bless you all xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what'cha think! :D


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